Stolen Cinderella
by Mia Moretti
Summary: Pre-S4. House & Cameron are still at odds with their feelings but it's never going to be easy. A shock revelation, a bitter love triangle & lives turned upside down by a traumatic twist of fate. Will any of them ever be the same? House/Cam but Chase too.
1. Catalyst

Hi guys!  
This is my very first House fanfic!  
It's House/Cameron but with Chase involved, because I just love using him to bring out the angst!  
Rating is M for later chapters but for now PG-13.  
I'd love some feedback on this, and concrit is welcome too.

Amy  
xxxx

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter One - Catalyst**

"We've tried every single reasonable diagnosis and treated it…yet she's still not getting better!"

Cameron said in exasperation as she followed House down the hallway. He looked at her, never pausing, as he leaned heavily on his stick whilst walking.

"Well, you've missed something," he stated matter-of-factly, as though she hadn't spent the last five days frantically trying to figure out what was wrong with her thirteen year old patient, who had presented with symptoms that didn't match up to any single diagnosis, but instead each its own different cause.

"House, I haven't missed anything! We've done numerous MRIs and CT scans; we've tested for everything and treated for everything…yet she's not responded to any of it!"

"Then find that special something you actually _haven't _tested for. Think outside the box, Cameron."

House said with the kind of sarcastic enthusiasm that infuriated her. Signalling an end to the conversation by walking out the front doors, Cameron stood watching him leave, rubbing her head and heaving a heavy sigh. With a roll of her eyes, she headed back towards his office to try and assess the symptoms on the board _yet_ again.

"There _must_ be something we've missed. Maybe a tumour that's too small to show up; maybe some kind of neurological problem-"

Cameron cut him off.

"Chase, you _know_ we've tested for all of that. Again and again."

He perched on the edge of the desk and stared at the board, as if a diagnosis would jump straight out at him this time, after having stared at the same symptoms for five days. No progress but luckily no deterioration either. Maybe that was the best they could hope for right now whilst they tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with this kid.

"Any news?"

Cameron shook her head regretfully in answer to the mother's question as she entered her patient's room to check all was still all right with her chem. and tox levels.

Everything was still the same. After a cardiac arrest, Peyton Davis hadn't had any more symptoms that would indicate a specific condition. She could talk and walk and her mind seemed to work fine, but there was still something wrong with her, and without any kind of development, good or bad, Cameron and the others were having a hard time trying to pinpoint a diagnosis. Yet another dead end this time too. Peyton's levels were still as they had been for the past eight hours.

Cameron had formed a kind of bond with her patient, as she generally tended to do, and she felt for the girl, whose father had never turned up to visit her yet, and whose mother acted like sitting by her daughter's side was a chore and didn't hesitate to let Peyton know this. It had wrenched her heart when her mother had walked in one morning, left a magazine and some homework for Peyton and told her she was going to work. The teenager never brought any attention to herself, never asked for anything, just simply stayed quiet and read the magazines.

Hearing someone entering the room, Peyton looked up and offered a smile as she saw Cameron. She'd never had anyone be so kind to her as this young doctor had been. When Peyton was sure the woman had other patients to see, Cameron would sit next to her and ask all about her life, what she wanted to do, her dreams, her interests. No one had ever really cared enough to ask her anything like Cameron.

"Everything alright?"

Peyton nodded and closed her magazine.

"My mom's at work. She said she'd swing by later on if she gets a chance."

Cameron's heart went out to her patient. The girl didn't even seem to realise that most parents would be by their kid's side 24/7 if they were in this situation. Peyton took it in her stride that her mother was barely there. She never complained and she never asked why, she simply accepted that her mother wouldn't change.

After their usual chat, Cameron's pager started to bleep furiously, reminding her that she was still at work and there were other patients in this hospital needing her attention too.

"No rest for the wicked."

Peyton joked and Cameron smiled, promising that she'd visit her at the end of her shift.

--

"Peyton?"

At the end of her shift, Cameron had returned to Peyton's room as she'd promised. She could see through the glass that the girl wasn't in her bed and as she entered the room fully, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Something wasn't right here. Calling for Chase as she saw him heading down the corridor, she hurriedly informed him of their patient's obvious absence. The first place Cameron checked was the bathroom in Peyton's room. As she pulled open the door her blood ran cold. The girl was lying perfectly still on the floor, her eyes glazed over and fixed on the ceiling.

"Peyton…oh my God."

Dropping to her knees, Cameron instantly went into auto drive and began CPR, pleading with the girl to wake up. Calling for Chase, her voice hoarse, he appeared in the doorway instantly and stared in horror at the scene before him. Cameron was visibly shaking, tears blurring her vision as she shouted for Chase to help. He dropped down beside her and checked Peyton's pulse. Slowly, he removed his fingers from the girl's neck and looked down at her before looking up at Cameron.

"Cameron-"

"NO! Just…k-keep going! Don't stop, we've got to bring her back. I'm not letting her die, no. No."

Gently taking hold of her arms, he felt her resist for a few moments, before collapsing into his embrace. She was shaking in his arms and he held her tight, letting her ride out the emotions. She'd been close to this girl; she'd empathised with her as she always did with the patients. House had told her time and again that it was "unprofessional" and that she'd get nowhere by getting so involved with cases. But it was just her style and Chase had always hoped she wouldn't take House's advice and lose that spark of empathy that made her such a good doctor.

"We can't just give up on her…"

Cameron whimpered into Chase's chest and he rubbed her back as the sobs wracked her body.

"She's not in pain now though. And what you did for her, the time you spent just making her feel like _someone_ cared…you made her last few days perhaps the happiest ones she'd had. Don't blame yourself for this."

She pulled back to look at him.

"But I couldn't even figure out what was wrong with her."

Chase shook his head, taking hold of her shoulders and looking into her eyes.

"None of us could. You're not to blame for this. It's tragic yes, but maybe the life she was living wasn't what she wanted to fight for."

Cameron dropped her tear-stained eyes to the floor, unable to look at Peyton's lifeless body beside them. Chase pulled her back into his arms, stroking her hair as he tried to give as much comfort he could.

Foreman appeared at the door and stopped short when he saw the girl. Chase looked up at him.

"What…happened?"

Foreman asked, his eyes locked on Peyton.

"Can you page House? We're probably not the best ones to be dealing with this. I'm going to take Cameron home, she's in no state to drive."

--

The whole drive, Cameron just stared silently out of the window, her hair tangled and her cheeks still stained with tears. Maybe this wouldn't have been so hard on her had she not been the one to find Peyton's body.

Pulling up outside her place, Chase shut off the engine and turned to her.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

Chase knew that her nod and attempt at a reassuring smile meant nothing. She'd break down if he just left her here on her own.

"I'm going to come in and make you some food. You might not feel like it but you haven't eaten all day and I don't trust you to eat if I leave you to it."

Cameron tried to protest but Chase took her keys and got out of the car, locking it up after she'd got out, and followed her up the steps.

"Do you ever actually eat? You've got pretty much nothing in this refrigerator."

Chase shook his head and turned to Cameron, who was sat on the sofa watching him. She smiled a little but other than that made no effort to answer his rhetorical question with words. Shutting to refrigerator, he sighed and straightened up.

"Right, I'm going getting a takeaway. You stay right here, I'll be ten minutes."

He didn't even wait for a reply before he was out of the door and starting up his car.

Cameron stood at the window and watched him drive off.

"_So this is what it's like having someone care about you."_

She thought, realizing that maybe she'd formed a bond with Peyton because she could identify with her. The girl had had people all around her yet she'd felt as though not a single person really cared. It chilled Cameron to realise how much that sounded like her own life. Returning to the sofa, she found herself thinking about her family and her life in general. Peyton's death had really made her think about the people in her life.

The knock on the door brought her back to reality and she headed to the door. Opening it, she wasn't surprised to see it was Chase standing there with a smile and he held up two bags of food, which she could smell was Chinese. Stepping aside, she let him in and he put the bags down on the kitchen counter top. She closed the door after him and started to help him take the food out.

"It smells good."

She noted, grateful that he was trying so hard to cheer her up. He nodded in agreement and carried both their plates over to the sofa, where he placed them on the table and switched on the TV.

"There's got to be some kind of funny movie on tonight. I won't leave until I see you laughing."

Cameron shook her head and rolled her eyes, grabbing a bottle of wine, two glasses and a corkscrew. He took them from her as she reached the sofa and poured them each a glass. Handing her a glass and taking the other, he held it up and gently clinked the glasses. He didn't need to say anything; it was just an unspoken gesture that she appreciated.

--

"Maybe we've had a bit too much wine."

Chase laughed and Cameron shook her head, pouring them both another glass. Their plates sat on the coffee table with the last few remnants of food, as the sappy forties' black and white movie played. They'd spent the whole of the movie making fun of it and Chase had been thrilled to hear her laughing at his bad jokes. He hoped it wasn't just the amount of alcohol they'd consumed that was masking her sadness and that he was genuinely cheering her up in some way.

As the credits rolled on the television screen and Cameron finished off yet another glass of wine, he watched her when her eyes locked onto his they stayed silent for a moment. Chase had no idea what was going through her mind at that point but he wished more than anything that for just a moment he could have an insight into what was going on behind those blue-green eyes. He didn't have to wait very long to find out what she was thinking though, as she suddenly leaned over and pressed her lips to his, her hands moving to his hair. He was too startled to have any reaction for a moment but her kisses were becoming desperate and he was torn between letting himself give in to her, letting himself fall into what he'd fantasised about – along with almost all the other men in the hospital – since they'd began working together, or stopping this before it got out of hand. A month previous when this had happened, she'd been high on a patient's meth, and even he couldn't recall the details of that night, it had been too blurred and over too quickly. Tonight, they'd had a lot to drink, she was an emotional wreck with the events of the day as it was, and he couldn't bear the thought of her hating him for it in the morning.

As she started to try and unbutton his shirt, he pulled back, holding her shoulders as he tried to control himself as well as her. Her lips were swollen, her breathing was heavy and her eyes were locked on his. Despite the alcohol, she still looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Cam-" he started and she cut him off, trying to silence him by capturing his lips again.

"Shhh. Just…shhh. And you can call me Allison y'know."

She mumbled against his lips and he shook his head, pulling back again.

"Allison…I'm not sure you know what you want right now. You think it's such a good idea for us to fall into this again? I think you're a little screwed up with your emotions and I don't think you're seeing things clearly…sleeping with me might not be the best thing to do…you'll regret it."

She put a finger on his lips and looked straight into his eyes.

"It's not like we haven't done it before. And I want you, right now. Is that clear enough?"

For a moment he just looked straight back into her eyes and he was thanking God for his answered prayers.

Finally, he nodded in answer to her words and, unlike her desperate, passionate kisses, he gently touched her lips with his and he felt her sharp intake of breath at the unexpected tenderness. He smiled against her lips, savouring each and every second of this, committing it all to memory and promising himself that this time he would be remembering every detail. She tasted like a mixture of coffee and strawberries, and to him that was a taste he'd never get enough of. His hands tangling in her hair, their kisses quickly deepened and she took charge, returning her hands to the buttons of his shirt as he let his hands find the edges of hers. When she'd succeeded in unfastening his buttons, he tugged at her shirt and she helped him pull it over her head.

For a moment, all he could do was stare at her exposed skin, her chest rising and falling with effort and a flush rising up her neck as she saw his intense, wondrous gaze. After all those days of sitting in House's office with her at close proximity, letting his mind drift off imagining this exact thing, the reality was better than anything he'd ever dreamed. After their one-night tryst she'd been invading his every thought and he'd tried piecing his memories of it together, the feel of her nails raking down his back, the look on her face just as she tipped over the edge…and the way she'd looked so beautiful asleep next to him.

Now here he was again, sat on her sofa as she straddled him wearing her jeans and black lacy bra, his shirt open and his breath stolen as she started to kiss her way down his neck and to his heaving chest. Every time her lips touched his bare skin, he felt electric shocks shoot through his body and he wondered if she knew the effects she was having on him. By her wicked smile, he guessed so.

In hardly any time at all, Chase had her on her back on the carpet, her jeans discarded as well as his shirt. He was kissing his way down her body and he was pretty sure he was in heaven, not quite believing this was actually happening again. She was writhing beneath him and little moans kept escaping her lips. In one quick motion she had him on his back and he looked up into her eyes, a smile on his lips as she leaned down and kissed him deeply. Breaking off the kiss, she stood up and took his hand, pulling him up too. In seconds they were in a fiery embrace again as she backed them toward her bedroom, tugging at his pants on the way, his hands touching every part of her body they could reach.

--

House sighed as he stood in front of the door. This was a mistake. Cuddy had forced him to come here, or so he kept telling himself. He wasn't comfortable trying to sound consoling and the way Cuddy had told it, House expected her to be grief-stricken and look like she'd been told she had a day to live. Instead, as she opened the door, she looked…glowing. It was only then it struck him what had been in front of him the whole time. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were pink and her eyes were full of confusion as she saw him stood outside her door. And was there the slightest bit of panic in her eyes too?

"Cuddy sent me."

He couldn't help himself, having to set the record straight that he hadn't turned up of his own accord. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel the slightest twang of disappointment that she didn't look as deflated by that statement as she usually would have.

"You're not…busy, are you?"

He raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side in his trademark way, studying her flustered appearance before all but pushing the door open and walking inside. The sudden rush of terror in her expression intrigued him…but as soon as he saw her attire, he understood why.

"Hair a mess, trying to keep me _out_ of your apartment instead of in like you usually would, wearing a sexy little robe…Cameron! You're not _with_ anyone right now, are you?!"

He was joking initially, trying to divert his eyes from her perfect figure wrapped in the thin silk material that reached mid-thigh. He hadn't considered that Cameron, the woman without any social life he could think of, would have come home stricken with grief, only to sleep with someone. He couldn't even think whom she'd possibly sleep with. The way she was opening and closing her mouth trying to produce an explanation would have been amusing in any other situation.

"I was...about to shower."  
She said lamely, knowing the excuse was almost as flimsy as the robe she was trying to desperately to cover as much of herself as possible with.

"Ally, who is it? Come on, this bed's getting cold."

Cameron's eyes darted over her shoulder and the look of complete shame and mortification said it all. Inexplicably, he felt a strong painful sensation in his chest. He'd only felt that once before…and he wasn't willing to feel it again after Stacy.

"_Chase_? You're sleeping with _Chase_? Again?!"

He tried to keep the disdain from his voice and covered the stab of hurt, though he'd never admit to it, with sarcasm. As usual. He hadn't seen it coming that was for sure. He was trying to use hurtful and sarcastic comments to hide the fact that he was extremely aroused by the sight of the young woman he had held at arm's length whilst she'd tried to convey her feelings for him, who was now stood before him in her living room, wearing only a sexy little cream silk robe, the colour of sex he thought, as she tried desperately to wrap it tightly round herself and cover as much exposed skin as possible.

"And, he suddenly calls you _Ally_? I can recommend a great psychiatric consult-"

"House if you've come here to lecture me…just leave."

He noted that she didn't make any comment about Chase being in the next room, in her bed. And for some reason, he couldn't get over that fact. Chase suddenly popped his head around her bedroom door and the shock and sudden panic that he'd seen in Cameron's expression was instantly replicated in Chase's.

"Don't be late tomorrow."

He couldn't even think of a good hurtful comment to leave them with as he limped toward the door. Cameron's gaze dropped to the floor in defeat. Even if she'd seen a possible chance of her love for House being reciprocated, there was no way in hell it would happen now. Chase decided to make himself scarce and quickly went back into the bedroom, shutting the door, as Cameron followed House to the door, less bothered by her lack of clothes now that he'd caught them at such an awkward moment. The way his eyes had scanned her body had made her feel like every contour his eyes touched lit on fire and continued burning even when he'd dragged his eyes away.

Before he left, he stopped at the doorway and turned to her.

"Do you love him?"

The simple question and the way he'd asked it, without any intentionally cruel or derisive agenda, made her look up and his eyes caught on hers. But she tore them away again and returned her gaze to the floor, feeling ashamed of the whole situation.

"No."

She whispered after a moment and that was all he'd needed to hear. He walked as quickly as was possible for him away from her door, desperate to put some space between them. He'd blown it, he was sure of that. She'd ended up sleeping with Chase again, when he'd had the chance many a time to be the one lying in her bed beside her, calling her "Ally". Hating to acknowledge it, even to himself, he thought back to the dreams he'd woken from when he'd been so sure they were real, so sure she was sleeping right there next to him, her quick, hot kisses trailed up his chest before he returned the favour. He even remembered that one last time he'd slept with Stacy and had been so close to saying Cameron's name instead of Stacy's. He winced a little at the thought of how that would have gone down with his ex. He'd told himself, and Stacy, that they had to break up because he couldn't be what she needed, couldn't change and give her what she deserved. Sure, that had been half the reason, and he had genuinely been in love with Stacy, part of him always would be because he didn't fall in and out of love very easily, but the other part of him knew that Stacy wasn't Cameron. And it hadn't been Stacy who was in his dreams at night. She might have been the one he was waking up to, finding her arm draped over his waist, but he remembered that one morning, waking up and his first instantaneous reaction as he saw the brunette asleep next to him, was to freeze and just watch her. Then she'd turned over and the moment he'd been frozen in was broken. No, she wasn't Cameron, as he'd for some reason thought the moment he'd woken up and seen her. He'd had to recover from that quickly as Stacy's eyes had opened and she'd smiled up at him.

--

"Chase, why are you wearing the same stuff as yesterday?"

Foreman regarded his co-worker suspiciously as Chase and Cameron entered the office the following morning. Chase's gaze immediately shifted nervously and he cleared his throat, uncomfortable in House's presence, feeling for sure something would be mentioned about the previous night. Sensing an uncomfortable tension between the three other people in the room, Foreman's frown deepened and he made a silent vow to find out what exactly the big secret was.

"Differential diagnoses of today's patient please, ducklings. If you weren't late, you'd have at least an idea of the case."

House tapped his cane on the floor three times and glowered at Cameron and Chase, who cleared his throat and sat down at the table, scanning over the case file on the table. Cameron looked rough as hell and felt like it too. Nausea kept building in her stomach and she was doing her best to fight it down, wondering why the hell the hangover was so bad this time.

--


	2. Hindsight

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

Chapter Two - Hindsight

"I've gotta…"

Unable to say any more, Cameron suddenly rushed out of the room clutching her stomach, one hand covering her mouth as she made for the bathroom. The others stared after her without a word. None of them had ever seen Cameron run out of a room so fast.

House pushed open each stall with his cane, ignoring the disgusted and horrified glares he was receiving from a less-than-impressed woman as she quickly washed her hands and left. He finally found Cameron in the far stall, slouched on the floor looking as though she'd gone three rounds with Tyson. Her eyes were red and she looked as though she'd been crying. He regarded her carefully for a moment over what exactly he was supposed to do now he'd found her. Here she was, broken and vulnerable, looking up at him with a mixture of shame, hope and naïve innocence he was sure she didn't realize she possessed.

"What do you want me to do?"

He asked on a sigh. Her eyes dropped to the floor and she shook her head before slowly dragging herself to her feet, wiping her eyes and slumping past him. Her usual 'chin in the air' exuded confidence was suddenly replaced by a damaged, weak woman who was reaching out to him whilst pushing him away. He watched as she all-but dragged herself out of the bathroom and followed her, determined to keep a close eye on her for the rest of the day. He just prayed that these symptoms couldn't possibly be what he thought they were.

For the rest of the day, she just seemed to be on auto-drive. She wasn't doing anything wrong, in fact everything was protocol, but this just worried the others more than anything. She had no sharp retorts or 'but what ifs' as they sat talking through diagnoses, and she wasn't in any way herself.

At lunch, House paused outside the pathology lab when he caught sight of Cameron at the computer, staring blankly at the screen. He assumed there were some kind of results on there that she hadn't counted on and wondered what they could be, considering everything in their current case seemed to be going smoothly, as far as he was aware.

As he opened the door, Cameron jumped slightly and clicked off the screen she'd been staring at.

"Hey, it's my job to use the work computers for porn, don't be stealing my ideas, _Ally_."

He laid emphasis on the nickname Chase had used the night before and Cameron's head instantly snapped up as she gave him the coldest glare he'd ever witnessed from her. If looks could kill.

"As I'm your boss, I'm clearly wanting to know what is so important that you had to wait until lunch to sneak off and check. You obviously don't want the rest of us knowing. I think that's a little selfish, don't you?"

He reached over her and grabbed the mouse, hearing the hitch in her breathing as his arm brushed against her chest. Her eyes quickly averted from the screen, almost as though she couldn't bear to look again. The knot of anxiety in her stomach was palpable in her expression. Clicking on the minimised screen, House's eyes scanned it in much the same way as she had.

"Cameron…"

"I only sent the test of this morning. I had a feeling…"

Hot tears started to streak down her cheeks as she brushed them away firmly, embarrassed to be showing this emotion to a man who seemed void of it.

"You're pregnant…"

It was like every kind of hope or fantasy, or even just notion, he'd had of being with her was now shattered. And it was his own fault.

"Is it…?"

"Chase's? Yes. I haven't been sleeping around, House," she seemed hurt by his unspoken but painfully obvious question, "I slept with Chase last month. We didn't…last night."

It was clear to House in the way her eyes looked everywhere but at him why they hadn't ended up sleeping together the previous night. He'd obviously barged in at a crucial point and completely destroyed their moment. Part of him was glad, yet part of him knew that didn't really matter now anyway. Chase had already knocked her up, so what did it matter if they'd slept together last night or not?

House locked his gaze on hers and he desperately wanted to reach out to her. But as usual when he felt uncomfortable or out of his depth in a situation, all his mouth would do was shoot out sarcasm.

"I would have thought the idea of having a kid with Chase would appeal to you. I'll bet he'll be thrilled. He won't be able to wait to get you down the aisle before you start your adorably attractive family together-"

She cut him off by standing up sharply; knocking over the stool she sat on.

"Because I don't love him! And I don't want to have _his_ baby!"

Her eyes suddenly darted to the doorway and House's gaze quickly followed hers. Chase was just stood there, shock rooting him to the spot as he stared straight into her eyes for a few endless moments, before he quickly turned and flew toward the elevators.

Cameron barely even glanced at House as she headed out the door, calling for Chase to stop. House was left watching, feeling that helpless sensation of everything he held precious slipping through his fingers right before his eyes.

--

"Chase…"  
She found him sitting in the lobby on one of the benches, a completely unreadable look on his face that reminded her somewhat of House. Cameron wasn't exactly sure how to approach this, as she didn't know how much he'd heard. She could be sure he'd witnessed her outburst though.  
"You don't love me, I can deal with that. I never really believed you did…or even could. Not when you're so obviously still wrapped around House's little finger. And he'd playing that card to his advantage, if you hadn't figured that one out yet-"  
"Chase-"  
"No. Cameron, I can deal with the fact that you don't seem able to love me, but…was it my mind or did you mention..."  
Cameron couldn't take it any more and, looking straight into his eyes, she let the words fall from her lips as though she weren't the one in control of them.  
"I'm pregnant. I'm carrying your baby."  
Chase seemed to be struggling with it, and she could completely understand this. For a moment there was silence between them as the gravity of their situation sank in. After a few moments, he reached out and gently touched her stomach, almost as if testing that this was real and not some kind of dream...she reared back as though he'd burned her. As soon as she saw the raw hurt flash in his eyes she felt a stab of guilt.  
"You don't want it though, I understand."  
His eyes locked on hers and he didn't need to ask the question out loud.  
"No, I'm not going to get a termination, Chase, you should know me better than that. I couldn't _live_ with myself."  
Her defeated gaze fell to the floor as she finally took a seat on the bench beside him.  
"I think...you'd be surprised what you can live with."  
He said gently and Cameron felt the strange sensation of deja vu. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.  
"I couldn't. It's a child, and it's my mistake that I'll have to deal with like an adult. Termination shouldn't be used like contraception Chase, you should know how I feel about that."

As much as she believed the words she was saying with her whole heart, her stomach still knotted in apprehension at the thought of everything to come if this pregnancy went ahead.  
"Allison...this isn't just on you. I'm...here for you. I'm willing to be a part of this, if you want me involved at all. It's not just down to you that this happened. I was there, remember? You might've been high, but I can assure you I was a part of it."  
He smiled ruefully and she couldn't help but crack a small smile. She couldn't quite believe he was taking it so well. It felt almost as though a little bit of the weight had been taken off her shoulders, knowing she could ask for his help at any point. She had the choice whether she would be doing this on her own.

--

"I'm assuming you told your baby daddy, judging by his 'walking on air' attitude today. Did he propose? Am I invited? Oh, oh, if the kid's a boy can his middle name be Greg?"  
After managing to pretty much avoid House for a full day yesterday, today she wasn't so lucky. The biting sarcasm she'd been used to from him was getting harder to bear and she was starting to feel he was getting to her on a more personal and painful level with each slicing remark. She chose to ignore him, burying her head in the case notes of yet another patient.  
"Leave her alone House."  
Chase said tersely as he entered the room and saw by their body language – Cameron slumped down in her chair, House stood leaning against the table looking down on her – that he was sticking that knife in just a little bit further every chance he had. In a way, Chase was amused by the bitter childish behaviour House was reverting to, like a kid in the school yard hitting and tormenting the life out of a girl he liked because someone else kissed her first. But on the other hand it angered Chase that because House, although even he perhaps didn't realize it, was kicking himself for not jumping at the chances he'd been given to call Cameron his after many futile attempts by the woman to show him how she felt, now he was taking it out on her in her weakened state.  
"Oh aren't you the little hero. It's your fault she's in this mess. Then again, I'm surprised you haven't gone all out and had "Who's the daddy!" t-shirts made. You think it'll all be happy families now you've got her pregnant? She doesn't love you, wake up! How long do you think this charade is gonna last, for God's sake-"  
Cameron suddenly flew up from her seat.  
"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!"  
She yelled at him, before storming out of the room and leaving two stunned men behind her.

--

"I'm sorry."  
"Why should you have to apologize for him?"  
Chase had found Cameron in Cuddy's office. Perhaps one of the only places House would be least likely to visit voluntarily. The clinic would have been an equally good hiding place.  
"Because, as always, he's right. It's my fault you're in this mess."  
Cameron studied him for a moment.  
"I'm a big girl now, Chase. I can stand up for myself. And…I would have let you know if you'd been overstepping boundaries you know. I was the one doing all the pushing anyway."  
He shook his head, running his hand through his hair as he paced the room.  
"I took advantage. You were high; it wasn't like you were in a stable state of mind. I was being selfish. All I could think of was how much I wanted you...how much I'd wanted you since I met you. I couldn't stop myself and I feel guilty about it, because now we're dealing with the consequences."

As he spoke, Cameron had just watched him pace, her eyes following him as she saw perfectly still on the chair. As much as she wished it was as easy as 'it's your fault', she knew that wasn't going to do anything for the situation they were now in. This was something they'd both had a part in, by being reckless and ignoring a broken condom, when neither had been willing to stop. If they had, this whole crisis could have been avoided. Hindsight's a bitch.


	3. Possession

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--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter 3 – Possession**

"I've printed out all the letters, you just have to sign them."  
Cameron was still acting as House's personal secretary, writing the letters he was supposed to write, answering ignored emails, keeping on top of paperwork. Here she was, three hours after she should have gone home, when he'd done nothing but jab at her all day with overly personal digs – mostly pregnancy references, sly comments about Chase and at her sex life in general. She was just so worn down by it all, after suffering it all day, that she wasn't really hearing his words any more, a ghost of a smile being her only reaction to most things he said to her.

Standing up from his chair she turned...and found herself staring straight up into those impossibly blue eyes. She was frozen in time for a moment as his gaze held hers steadily, never wavering. He was stood mere inches from her and she couldn't deny the sexual tension between them. It had been there all the time, but until now they'd walked the thin wire of neither doing anything to tip the other off the edge. Because God forbid they actually had a shot at being _happy _if that ever happened.

Unnerved, Cameron tried to step backwards and put some space between them, but found the chair and desk to be in the way, blocking any route of escape she might have had...if she'd wanted to.  
"No sarcasm? I-I'm surprised."  
She stuttered, trying to maintain her composure and cursing mentally that her voice had wavered so obviously. His sudden close proximity had really knocked her all off kilter.  
"You asked me why I even cared."  
He spoke evenly, ignoring her shaky comment, a blank and characteristically unreadable expression on his face. She frowned for a second, completely lost by what he was talking about. That was, until she remembered an earlier, rather-heated conversation. She'd demanded to know why he even cared that Chase had been the one to get her pregnant, it wasn't as if House himself would ever step up and actually sleep with her, so how was it any of his business if she slept with Chase? He hadn't replied.

Seeing the realization in her eyes, he answered that earlier question that had played on his mind all day. It had invaded his every thought, her words resounding in his head. He hadn't been able to tell whether it was a challenge from her or if she'd just been stating what she saw as fact.  
"_It's not like you'd ever sleep with me, so why should you even care if Chase did?"_  
He'd had a reply, of course, but he'd managed to contain it. He couldn't ever say those words out loud to her. It was too much, and it would change everything. He'd had all day to formulate some kind of in-between answer. It still wasn't easy for him to let the words fall from his lips, but it was easier than saying the three words he was terrified of.  
"You're not his girl, that's why."  
He was even closer to her now, his eyes never leaving hers, even when she broke the eye contact, trying to decipher his meaning.  
"You're not his girl," he repeated as she lifted her gaze to meet his once again, "you're mine."  
If she'd been confused before, now she was just completely screwed up. Was he toying with her again? Was this yet another depraved stab at her heart? He'd said she was 'his girl' before, but there'd been far too much humour and sarcasm in his voice for it to have actually been credible. Now though...now he seemed entirely too blunt.  
"House, what are you-?"  
He shut her up and answered his unfinished question all in one action. In an entirely House way, he took hold of her shoulders and pressed his lips firmly to hers. She instantly tensed in his hands and he'd felt her gasp in the split second before their lips had touched, but within moments she'd gone weak and started to respond to his kiss. Yet he could still fell the uncertainty in her, the uncertainty in what he was actually trying to achieve with this. But she wasn't pushing him away and slapping him, so that was a start.

When the need for air became to great, she was the one to pull back, searching his eyes for some kind of explanation for this sudden development.  
"House..."  
He didn't seem to be letting her finish any of her questions right now.  
"You're mine, alright? Not Chase's."  
This sudden possessive behaviour was more than a little unexpected to Cameron. Pulling out of his arms, she turned away, her hand slowly rubbing her forehead as she tried to straighten out her thoughts, which were now spinning in unrelenting circles in her mind. That's what the touch of his lips did to her.  
"I don't understand you!"  
Her sudden, higher-than-usual tone sliced through the silence and even startled House.  
"First, you tear me down continually in front of everyone, you break me down in every way possible and then as soon as I'm not right there for you to toy with and push away, when I'm not fawning over you and finally getting ;over it' like you've constantly told me to, you...you pull this stunt. I don't know what the fuck you think you're playing at and I'm not sure how you could just _expect _me to fall at your feet again with one damn kiss. You can't always get what you want, House. Yes, I am..._was_ in love with you. But it's not that simple any more. It _could_ have been that simple, but you were the one who chose to push me away," she could see he had no idea what he could say to this, so she continued, "You broke my heart enough times for me to realize that you weren't, and probably still aren't, good for me. And if you've forgotten, I'm also pregnant, so all these words are hormone-charged and we should probably forget them."

She couldn't quite believe all that had come from her mouth. Since he'd first found out she had feelings for him, with all the little digs and comments she'd learned to just brush off, the **emotional strain had caused this build up until one little thing – okay, not so little, he'd ****_kissed_**** her – had brought it all back and she'd snapped.**

**Had this happened a few months ago, she knew she would have been weak at the knees and would have happily ended up in his bed. After all, it was what she'd only thought possible in her dreams. She also realized that even now, he was still what she wanted, still the one man since her husband who had given her butterflies just by standing too close. He was definitely under her skin and she knew he always would be. But she also knew he wasn't just under her skin, he was in her heart. That was what made the difference. That was what made her completely contradict everything she'd yelled at him for by kissing him again.**

**--**

**Chase had been thinking about her all day, about the situation they were in and how it would affect both of their lives. He wondered what she'd say if he were to ask her to move in with him. He had run through as many possible reactions as he could and realistically, he knew she'd be sceptical and possibly say no outright. But another part of him wondered if the fact that she was carrying his child would sway her a little. She'd seemed relieved when he'd said he was willing to be involved and the little part of his mind that noticed it had immediately stirred. Which is what had set these ideas in his mind.**

**Maybe he could even push the boat out to proposing? House had sarcastically suggested it and he cursed himself for not gauging her reaction at that prospect. She'd slept with him, ****_almost_**** twice. That had to mean something, right? If House hadn't turned up, both of them were well aware where that evening would have ended up. And it was very different to the way in which it had actually ended. Chase pulling his clothes back on and awkwardly heading for the door, after Cameron had disappeared into the bathroom. Not exactly what he'd had planned for her.**

**He'd been working late that night, something he generally ended up doing more than he liked, but he knew Cameron was still around, having seen her hard at work in her adopted role as personal assistant, engrossed in typing some letter. He'd smiled to himself, noting the look of pure concentration in her delicate features, the way her lips moved ever so slightly as she skimmed over what she'd typed, the way she was completely oblivious to everything apart from the task at hand. He realized that every little quirk he saw in her, he memorised and never forgot. **

**Hoping she'd still be there where he'd seen her earlier, Chase made his way to House's office. When he got closer, his heart all but stopped. Right in front of him, behind the glass walls of the office, Cameron wasn't alone. House had one arm round her waist, the other cupping her cheeks and she was clinging to him, their eyes closed as their bodies pressed as tightly together as their lips. He almost flew through that door and hit House; much in the way House had hit him that one time. But what use would that do? It wouldn't make Cameron want him instead of House. It would more likely cause him to lose her even more than he already had. Who had he been kidding, thinking Cameron could ever really fall for him, that she could possibly agree to marry him? Backing up, Chase silently left with the image of Cameron and House locked in a fiery embrace imprinted in his mind.**


	4. Cold

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Hey guys!

Thanks so much for the lovely reviews - they made my day 

I really appreciate the time taken to read this, and especially thanks to my wonderful LJ readers who were the ones to suggest I upload it on here 

Thanks again guys!

And Re: the Cam/Chase arc: I tend to like using Chase as a catalyst to bring House and Cameron together. I'm not a Chameron fan in the least but I have a bit of a thing for Jealous!Possessive!House, and what better way than to have Cameron with Chase. Don't worry; Hameron will always prevail.

Peace and Cheers

Amylia

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Four – Cold**

"Stop."

He whispered against her lips, as they broke apart. Her breath hitched at that one word. She couldn't think straight, the magic and electricity of his kiss still sending shockwaves through her whole body, especially to a few certain areas that were now demanding to know why they'd stopped.

"Why?"

She whispered back after a few moments, reluctance in her voice as her warm breath teased his lips. And she wasn't the only one questioning why he was stopping. His own body was doing a very good job of trying to convince him to contradict the thin strand of control he was clutching at as it was. Her eyes were locked onto his and almost challenging him to mention Chase. He broke away, much to both of their disappointments, and shook his head with a sigh.

"You _know_ why, Cameron. If we do this, if I take you home …the fall out from it isn't going to be half as pleasurable as the sex."

He turned to face her. She searched his eyes for some kind of reassurance but he couldn't give it. She didn't want it to be 'just sex' to either of them, and the problem was, they both knew it wouldn't be.

"I can't be what you want me to be, Cameron. I'm not that guy who sweeps you off your feet to whisper sweet nothings. I can't guarantee anything for you. All I can give you right now is that I want you and I know you want me. Chase is your 'fall guy'; he wants the marriage, kids and white picket fences. I've never wanted that and never will. I'm broken, damaged, and so are you. We can have one night, and nothing will be different tomorrow. But you _need_ different. You're having your boyfriend's baby and you need the security. I can't give you that."

The tears in her eyes forced him to break eye contact and shift an uncomfortable gaze to the floor.

"It's not like I don't want to. God, I want nothing more than to have you in my bed tonight, but…this won't work for us. You'll sleep with me, maybe regret it tomorrow and if not, then you'll regret it a few months down the line, and we'll end up alone again. Right now you've got a shot with Chase, but if we sleep together…I doubt he'll stick around. As much as he's all soft and gooey about you, I think even he'd draw a line. And you might think you can raise a kid on your own but you'll realize you need someone there for you. And that won't be me."

A single hot tear fell down her cheek and she didn't bother to wipe it away. Too many different emotions were washing over her right now, but the two prevalent ones showed in her expression. Hurt and anger. She was glaring at him with his own degree of sobriety and he felt like she could see right into him.

"How can you do this to me, House?"

Her voice started off soft, the raw pain evident and as painful for him as it was for her. But the bubbles of anger, fuelled by confusion, erupted and she was clenching her fists, trembling with rage, the pink flush of fury rising to her cheeks. He'd always thought she was sexier when she was angry, but this wasn't so enjoyable to witness, partially because the anger was caused by the pain, which he was source of. As always.

"You were the one that kissed me! Do you enjoy breaking my heart, because right now I can't see any other reason you'd be doing this? I can't believe you're walking away from this now. I can't…I-I just can't stand here and take it whilst you play games with me. I'm sick of it. And I want out. Looks like you've made your choice anyway. And I have too. I quit."

She flew out of his office quicker than she ever had before and he had no chance to call her name or try to stop her. The knot in the pit of his stomach and insistent twinge of pain in his leg were starting to become unbearable. This was her slipping through his fingers. His whole world was unravelling before his eyes and he was powerless to stop it. Popping out two pills, he tossed them back and dry-swallowed them, closing his eyes and for a moment just focusing on the relief they gave him. This had all gone drastically wrong. He'd managed to successfully break her until she was literally shaking with anger as stinging tears burned her cheeks. How could he ever be good for her?

--

Cameron sat in her car in the parking lot, darkness enveloping her and for once making her feel safe. Her whole body shook with sobs as she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. Only he could do this to her, turn her into a train wreck of a human being, completely destroy her with one kiss. Every time she'd go back to him and every time she'd be the one who ended up in tears. He always pushed the buttons in her heart, and it infuriated her that he knew which ones really got to her. But the walls were down now and she couldn't turn back. They'd been down this road too many times and she'd learned the hard way how this story always ended. Switching on the ignition, she took a deep breath and tried to stop her hands from shaking so badly. The radio blasted to life and almost sent her flying through the roof. Turning it down a little, she listened to the words and felt her stomach churn and her heart ache as the words resounded within her.

You have a way of coming easily to me

_And when you take_

_You take the very best of me_

_So I start a fight _

'_Cause I need to feel something_

_And you do what you want_

'_Cause I'm not what you wanted_

They fought constantly; everyone knew it. Whether it was about a diagnosis or his complete disregard for anything morally acceptable, they'd almost always end up at odds with each other and shouting, glaring and slicing words would always be traded back and forth. When it came to the personal issues, his shouting and glaring would dispel but the hurtful words, sharpened by sarcasm, never failed to cut straight to her heart. He could hurt her with the sharp edges of what he said and there was no amount of reason that could save her. She always ended up back in the same position she'd been in when she'd last promised herself it would end.

He did take the best of her, every single day, whether he knew it or not. She loved him as passionately as she hated him and that made it all the harder.

She wondered why he had to push her away. As much as everyone knew they fought, it was also clear that there was a sizzling chemistry between them. The fervour with which they fought would no doubt be the fervour with which they could so easily do the opposite. But was she really not what he wanted? He'd said himself he wanted her; up there in his office those exact words had fallen from his lips. Yet here she was, sat in her car whilst the rain battered down, creating a sympathetic lull of mocking tranquillity.

Oh what a shame

_What a rainy ending given to a perfect day_

_Just walk away_

_Ain't no use defending words _

_That you will never say_

_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through_

_I've never been anywhere as cold as you._

She killed off the engine again but left the radio playing, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the steering wheel. The words were just too real, it struck a note deep in her heart and fresh tears were stinging her eyes.

_You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey_

_And I stood there loving you_

_And wished them all away._

_And you come away with a great little story_

_Of a mess of a dreamer _

_With the nerve to adore you._

A sob mixed with a harsh laugh of irony escaped her lips and she wiped her eyes, staring out of the windscreen as silent drops of rain began to smear across it. A mess of a dreamer. That's certainly what she was right now. She'd known he was damaged, as was she, but she'd always had that naïve kind of hope that he'd perhaps open up just enough to let her in. Well, hadn't that just come back to bite her on the ass. He'd opened up tonight, at least enough for her to see some kind of emotion under his toughened and cynical exterior. But it hadn't exactly ended very well, had it.

_You never did give a damn thing honey_

_But I cried, cried for you_

_And I know you wouldn't have told nobody_

_If I died, died for you_

_Died for you._

She was sure she hadn't even cried as much over her dead husband as she had in the three years she'd worked for House. She couldn't even count the amount of times she'd ended up drowning her sorrows with a glass of wine and a sappy movie at the end of a hard day, blaming it on said movie when her tank top ended up soaked with tears. She'd become slightly more immune to him of late and perhaps that's because she'd ended most of her nights in bed with Chase and didn't have the 'alone time' to reflect on House's treatment of her. But she was back to that first square again and old wounds were now open and painful. Like shadows in the faded light, scars from him that she couldn't even remember acquiring were once again dragged up to haunt her, to add to that pool of pain in her heart.

Oh what a shame

_What a rainy ending given to a perfect day_

_Every smile you fake is so condescending_

_Counting all the scars you made_

_Now that I'm sitting here thinking it through_

_I've never been anywhere as cold as you._

The song finished and a crackle of lightning sliced the sky, the radio crackled and turned to nothing but static. Switching it off and sitting in the middle of a dark parking lot, the rain beating down harder, Cameron felt she was hiding from the storm until all the damage was done beating her up. After that confrontation, she felt like her mind was in a thousand different places. She'd resigned and had finally put an end to his hold on her – at least, verbally she had. In reality she only wished it was that simple. But at least he couldn't knock her off her feet again now; she was already on her knees, flat on the floor and caught between hating him enough to wish she'd never met House and just simply wishing she didn't have to feel _this_ way about him.

One thing that swiftly occurred to her was that the mountain she was currently struggling up would end up just being a grain of sand in the scheme of things. She was _pregnant_. She was having a baby with a man whom she clearly didn't love and she'd just quit her job. And suddenly, the rain outside felt like a torrential wave, washing over her and swallowing her whole. At this point in her life, she'd never felt so alone.

Yet again, she found herself running back to him. Her heart was screaming at her that this wasn't right. She was using him and she hated herself for it. But she needed his embrace; she needed the soothing words telling her it was going to be alright; she needed to feel _something_.

--

He'd spent all night plagued with the image of the woman his thoughts revolved around, whom he'd come to realize he was in love with, locked in the embrace of the man he knew _she_ was in love with. As much as he tried to take his mind off it, there were little reminders in everything he did. Switching on the TV, yet another soap was playing out a love triangle; pulling out the newspaper, he read of how a man had murdered his wife's lover; switching on the radio, all he could find were songs of a lost love, or a 'right kind of wrong' and he ended up sitting on the sofa, head in his hands just allowing himself to play out the scene in his mind one last time as the radio gave him an ironically pertinent soundtrack.

"Loving you isn't really something I should do I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you I should try to be strong

_But baby you're the right kind of wrong"_

A weak knock on the door dragged him out of his reverie of torment and he switched off the radio, glaring at it as though his anguish was down to the uncanny song choice. Making his way down the hall and switching on the hallway light, he didn't look through the peephole like he usually would and instead simply pulled the door open. His surprise was palpable when he took in the sight of Cameron on his doorstep, drenched and shivering as she stood in the pouring rain, yet he could tell she'd been crying. Her clothes were wet through, clinging to her as she slowly raised her eyes to meet his startled gaze.

"Cameron…oh God, you'll catch your death, get in out of the rain."

He pulled her into the hallway, shutting the door quickly and turning to fully take in her appearance. She looked like every ounce of fight she had in her had been drained and despite the fact that her hair was plastered to her head, he could tell there were tears mixed in with the rain on her cheeks too.

All his anger toward her for doing what she'd done with House earlier had dissipated and now he was just apprehensive. Had something happened after he'd made his escape, or had House's kiss just had such an effect on her that she'd ended up tearful and drenched on his doorstep? For some reason, he couldn't imagine that the kiss he'd seen would do this to her all on its own. And yet again, Chase felt the rabid need to harm his boss severely for getting Cameron into this kind of state and then letting her drive in this weather. She could have easily ended up killed, and it wasn't just her anymore either. She had a tiny little life growing inside her that was part of him too. He was just thanking God she'd made it to his place safely.

"Ally…what the hell happened? Come on let's get you warm and dry."

He led her into the living room where he set up the fire and sat her down in front of it, grabbing a few towels and wrapping her in them. All the while she never spoke, just stared into the fire like there was some kind of hidden answer she was searching for buried beneath the embers. When she was mostly dry, he went to find some of the clothes she'd left there the week previous. Allowing her some privacy to change into the track pants and strap-sleeved tank top, he went into the kitchen and made her a steaming cup of the Camomile and Spiced Apple she'd purposely left in his cupboard. He'd seen the magic of the little bags of herbal tea when they'd had a particularly heated dispute and she'd calmed down within minutes of the tea passing her lips. He'd been suspicious after that as to whether it simply was just tea.

Joining her on the rug in front of the fire, where she'd returned to sitting cross-legged, a dry towel still draped over her shoulders due to her still-wet hair, he handed her the drink and she smiled weakly in thanks.

"Allison?"

He sat directly in front of her, reaching forward and cupping her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to make eye contact. The glazed look on her face began to slowly dissolve and he breathed an inward sigh of relief that she was coming back to earth.

"What happened?"

He specifically chose not to mention what he'd seen before he left, interested to know whether she would include that in her explanation. If not…well, he wasn't sure if it was in his best interest to mention that right now anyway.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. A small sigh of frustration finally left her lips and she took a deep breath.

"I've quit."

He stared at her in shock. She'd quit? What could have happened that was so bad she'd ended up quitting?

"You…quit."

He repeated her words, trying to grasp the gravity of them as they sank in. He couldn't understand how it could have gone so badly from them locked in a heated kiss to her quitting.

"Can I ask…why?"

She broke their eye contact and seemed to be searching for the right words. He had a feeling this was going to all coming flooding out. When the silence wasn't broken by tearful ramblings, he softly spoke.

"It's alright, you can tell me."

Her head shot up. Had he seen? He was remarkably calmer than she'd expected him to be when something had so obviously happened with House.

"I saw you…and House…before I left."

He said as he carefully scrutinized a fleck of fluff on the rug they were sat on, anything to avoid looking back into her eyes and letting her see that this actually did hurt him, a lot.

"Robert…"

Her voice was soft, full of guilt and regret. He shook his head.

"You've made it clear you don't love me and everyone knows you've had feelings for House for years-"

He wasn't angry or accusing, he was trying to comfort her. But his words weren't having that affect right now. Glancing up, he saw fresh tears sliding down her just-dried cheeks and her chin was trembled.

"He was just playing with me, it wasn't real. It never is. That's why I quit. _He_ kissed _me_. Whether you believe that or not is up to you, but I didn't make the first move for once. Which is why I thought it was different."

She pulled her legs up to her chest in a kind of self-preservative action, her hands still tight around the cup of herbal tea, soaking in its warmth.

"Then he pushed me away and went on about how he couldn't change and he wasn't what I needed. He kissed me like that and then just walked away. Not that I could have really expected anything more from him. I'm sure he enjoys breaking every piece of my heart…"

Her voice faded out and she stared down into the amber liquid in her cup. She could almost feel how hard this was for him to hear. He'd told her before that he was in love with her. She hadn't been able to say it back to him, because that would have proven House's hypothesis that 'everybody lies'. And here she was, sitting in the middle of his living room, talking about another man. The only man she'd be able to say those three words back to and not be lying.


	5. Everywhere

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Chapter Five – Everywhere

The next morning, Chase left Cameron warm in bed with threats that if she left the bed there'd be trouble. She needed rest after the emotional turmoil of the previous night. And it wasn't like she had a job to go to. He made her another cup of that sunshine-in-a-cup before he left for a job he still had, constantly telling himself during the journey to hold his tongue and not say anything derisive to his boss, like he so badly wanted to.

After their heart-to-heart the night before, Chase had refused to let her drive home, knowing that if she was on her own she'd be assaulted by her own thoughts in the quiet of an empty apartment. So he'd led her up to the bedroom where she'd already spent many nights and tucked her up under his covers, leaving her for a while until he was sure she'd fallen to sleep. When he'd climbed into the bed next to her sleeping form, he'd not been able to fall asleep for hours. Instead, he just watched her, memorising the slight frown and pursed lips that gave away a restless sleep. He eventually drifted off, only to be awoken an hour later by the alarm.

As he walked into the conference room, he silently wondered if House would explain Cameron's obvious absence or if he'd completely bypass it. Foreman caught his eye and Chase could read the unspoken question like a book. He wasn't going to answer. That was up to House. It was his fault she wasn't here after all. But the strange thing was, even though she wasn't here, he still sensed her, and the lack of her physical presence only enhanced it, paradoxically enough. Making his way to the coffee machine, Chase did his best to make coffee that was worthy of its name. Making do with the kind of sludge that the vender out in the hall dispensed, he returned to the table and looked with almost-sarcastic expectance at House as he entered.

"Abdominal pain, pyrexia, seizures and rashes. Differential diagnoses please, kiddies."

House launched straight into the medicine upon entering, picking up the black marker and scrawling down the symptoms their newest patient presented with.

"Whoa, hold up. Where's Cameron? And it could be Lupus."

Foreman answered, tapping his pen atop the glass table. House let out a long breath and turned to face his two remaining fellows.

"Lupus won't explain the abdominal pain. And the test was negative anyway."

Foreman eyed him and glanced at Chase, whose look could only be described as contempt.

"Okay, what about a tumour? Its location could cause the seizures and pyrexia, and a secondary infection could be the cause of the abdo pain and rashes. And where's Cameron?"

"Foreman, go do a PET scan, Chase get blood cultures and a CBC and chem. panel."

It was blatantly obvious that House was avoiding the question pertaining to Cameron's absence and it made Chase's blood boil.

"Where's Cameron? Aren't you going to tell him, House?"

Chase yelled, standing up with some force and slamming his hands down onto the table. Both House and Foreman gave a start and two sets of eyes trained on their boss. He sighed and tapped his cane on the floor.

"She quit. That's all you need to know. Bug Chase about it, he obviously has the gossip."

And with that, he limped heavily toward his office, shutting the door in an obvious way of silently saying 'don't hassle me'.

"What did he do to her?"

All day, Chase was the one getting the brunt of House's evading explanation. He had managed to mostly avoid Foreman for the day and avoid the questions he had ready, but now he'd been cornered in the sleep lab.

Being in here again only served as a reminder of Cameron and yet again he felt her everywhere. He could see that wicked smirk on her lips as she'd coerced him into sex in an empty sleep lab room, he could practically hear her soft voice reassuring the patient they'd been overseeing. But right now, Foreman sat in the seat next to him, looking back at him expectantly, wanting answers.

"He messed with her head again and she snapped. She quit and she's currently in bed trying to get her strength back."

He felt a critical gaze and raised his eyes to meet his colleague's.

"And somehow I doubt it's as simple as 'he messed with her head'. You and I both know that Cameron can take his derogatory sarcasm. So what'd he do that was so special this time? She wouldn't just snap over a sardonic comment."

This time is was Chase's turn to snap. He was fed up having to talk about Cameron's feelings for House. It was hard enough for him to think about it himself, but having to discuss it was almost unbearable and he felt like a fool.

"He kissed her then pushed her away. Okay? Happy now? She's messed up because she's clearly still in love with him and he's twisting her heart like it's one of the toys he uses to distract himself."

With that he was gone. He needed air. The stale air of the windowless sleep lab was suffocating him and he made his escape, leaving an incredulous Foreman staring after him.

--

Drumming his fingers silently against his lips in contemplation, House sat alone in his office, staring out of the windows at life continuing in the world below. Foreman and Chase had taken the hint not to bother him right now, though he had half expected Chase to come charging full-throttle nevertheless. Ever the knight in shining armour.

He had wondered if she'd turn in today. Part of him was impressed that she hadn't. She was holding her ground; he respected that. But another part of him was getting antsy. Had he really lost her? All because of his stupid issues with the three words she needed to hear from him. If he'd have said them, if he'd have found that courage somewhere inside of him and forced the words past his lips, would she still be here? He didn't doubt it.

She was everywhere. In his mind he kept replaying the spiral of disaster from the night before, couldn't believe he'd so easily broken her right down. He was his father, and that thought scared him more than anything else. Maybe he hadn't physically hurt her, but the emotional abuse he dished out on a daily basis was just as bad, wasn't it?

Hearing the door open, he waited a moment before turning. He found Cuddy looking right back at him. The look on her face gave her away instantly.

"What did you do to Cameron?"

House rolled his eyes dramatically and loudly sighed.

"She's not really quit, she's just planning the last details of our plans to elope."

Cuddy was unwavering.

"You know what, House? I don't care what you did. Make it better. And you're behind on clinic hours, _again_."

With that she was gone, leaving him to wallow in his thoughts of Cameron again. He had to make it right. As much as he found it almost painful to say he was sorry, and knew he would probably end up covering his back with sarcasm, she needed to hear it. She maybe wouldn't forgive him, but at least she'd know he hadn't just brushed it all off and continued like before.

Without her in the office, making his coffee, keeping him grounded…he was sure he'd end up just falling apart. Quietly, and in private, but nonetheless he'd fall apart. Grabbing his cane and hauling himself to his feet, he grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door. He'd make this right.


	6. Nowhere

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**Chapter Six – Nowhere**

There was no answer at her house; he knocked continuously. An old lady creaked open her door halfway down the corridor and eyed him for a moment.

"If you're looking for the pretty girl, she didn't come home last night. Her car isn't outside either."

House glanced at Cameron's door again and sighed. The old lady probably spent most of her time sat next to the widow, watching the ins and outs of her neighbours. He could trust that she'd be clued in as to whether Cameron had returned last night.

"If you can find the pretty boy who's been here a lot lately, I'll bet you'll find her."

And with that she hobbled inside again, shutting the door. He heard a series of locks go and couldn't help but shake his head.

As he made his way back towards his bike, it suddenly occurred to him. Of course she was at Chase's. That's why he'd been so up in arms about it this morning. She'd gone to him the night before after the altercation. The ache in his chest grew stronger at the thought of her running back to him. But why shouldn't she? He'd hurt her, yet again, and Chase was the 'fall guy' as he had described. Mentally kicking himself, he realized he'd pushed her straight back into her 'fall guy's' arms.

Pulling up outside Chase's place, House faltered a moment, before killing the engine and making his way up to the door. Ringing the doorbell and getting no answer, he used his cane to knock…

He got that dreadful sinking feeling in his gut when the door slid easily open. The silence within was deafening.

"Cameron?"

He called out tentatively. No answer, but he hadn't expected one, just…hoped. Damn her for being the only one to bring out that certain emotion in him.

Taking a cautious step into the hallway, he noted the smashed lamp and overturned plant across the doorway to what appeared to be an ominously upturned living room. There was no way this was any kind of accident. The tables and cabinets were overturned, along with the chair. Glasses and lamps, books and CDs were scattered across the floor, the widescreen TV was smashed – not taken, House noted – and the open-plan kitchen was nothing short of a disaster.

"What, did you try cooking?"

He called out through the empty rooms. He inwardly asked himself why he always had to resort to mockery. This was clearly serious. Not only was she gone from work…she was literally, _gone_. And it didn't look like it had been voluntary. That crushing sensation he felt in his chest was becoming stronger. He could safely say he was worried for her safety, not just her whereabouts.

"Chase, you might want to get home."

The police had been quick on the scene and House was now stood outside the property, leaning against the railing outside the gates. Crime tape announced to the world that something had gone on here, which did not constitute as good.

"What? Why the hell-"

"Cameron's gone. The police are going through your place now."

The silence on the other end allowed both men to take in the gravity of this whole situation. The woman they loved had gone, almost definitely against her will. And there were no guarantees she wasn't hurt.

"Have they come up with anything yet?"

His voice was panicked, guilt-ridden. House shook his head, as though Chase could see that across the line.

"I don't know. I got here and everything was overturned, so I called them. They'll want a statement off you, I've told them everything I can."

"House…what if she's…."

House scowled. Hadn't his fellow realized yet that comforting words weren't his forté?

"She's a fighter, she'll be alright."  
"But she's pregnant, what about the baby-"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Why don't we just concentrate on Cameron before we start whining about the kid?"

He berated himself as soon as those words left his mouth. He knew deep down he'd have the same concerns for the little life inside her if that little life was partly to do with him. But it wasn't, and the thought of her even sleeping with Chase was bad enough. He didn't want to contemplate that baby right now. He just wanted to focus on getting his Cameron back. _His_ Cameron.

--

Pain swirled though her head as consciousness slowly returned, the world spinning as a stream of light assaulted her eyes. A wave of nausea rolled over her and she heaved herself up to a sitting position, gagging on the thick atmosphere of the room. The dust clogged in her throat and nostrils, dancing in the air and catching the light as she struggled to breath. Her whole body was shaking slightly and she gingerly touched her head, where she could feel a deep gash on her hairline. Looking at her fingers she saw the dried blood from the head wound and wanted to cry. Where the hell was she and what had happened?

Looking up toward the light she saw she was in some kind of basement. The tiny, dirty window close to the low ceiling, a large crack in it allowing the harsh sunlight into the empty concrete prison, gave no clue as to where she was actually being held.

Torn between wanting someone to open the door and enter, to at least give her some clue of who her attacker was, and wanting to be left alone for as long as possible, until the police found her – if they even realized she was missing yet – she dragged herself into the corner, seeking some kind of safety in appearing as small as possible.

She looked down at herself. She still wore the black track pants, now grey with dust, and the strappy tank top from the night before. Gently touching her stomach she prayed nothing would happen to her baby. Pulling her knees to her chest – and flashing back to doing exactly the same the night before, in the same kind of self-protection technique – she fought back the tears that threatened to overcome her.

It seemed to her like she was down there for years before the door at the top of the concrete steps began to open. The heavy creak of metal on concrete went though her and she was almost afraid to look up. When she did, putting a face to the identity of her attacker did nothing to ease the overpowering sensation of fear bubbling within her.


	7. Doubt

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**Chapter Seven – Hope**

"Hey little girl, why the big scared eyes?"

The taunting voice of her attacker resonated off the four walls that trapped her, mocking her. She said nothing, choosing instead to let her eyes narrow as he descended the steps towards her. He tut-tutted arrogantly, his eyes never once leaving hers and causing her terror to simmer hotter beneath the surface. But she kept a calm composure. He knew she was frightened, no need to boost his confidence by showing it.

"And what's with the glower power? Learned from your dear Dr. House very well I see."

Hearing his name made her throat constrict, limiting the oxygen she needed to breathe. Trying to appear calm when she was near choking wasn't exactly easy. So this had something to do with House. Why wasn't she surprised? Once again she was taking the brunt of his actions, in some form or another. What had he done to piss this patient off, assuming he actually was a wronged patient? Maybe he was the husband of another of the ex-girlfriends, whom House had perhaps had a one-night stand with; maybe he'd shoved a thermometer up this guy's ass, just for the hell of it; or maybe there wasn't actually anything House had done to him, he just knew of him in passing. Doubtful, but still a possibility. And only one of thousands that were currently whirling through Cameron's screwed up mind.

By the time the metaphorical fog cleared, she jumped, startled, as she found her kidnapper crouched right in front of her. Her jolt back to the real world, where she was holed up God only knew where, had caused her to crack her head against the concrete behind her and she winced as a sharp bolt of pain hit her right between the eyes. As if she needed any more trauma to her head. She was already bleeding again from the open wound this psycho-kidnapper guy had no doubt inflicted; she could feel the cold wetness in her scalp. The medically qualified part of her mind knew she had to get it looked at – she couldn't see how deep it was or if there were any internal injuries. But the other voice present in her mind was reminding her that this could possibly get worse. And that little voice made her heart skip a beat with panic and her stomach tie up in knots.

She'd obviously been brought here for a reason, even if she hadn't figured out what it was yet. For some reason, she had a sinking feeling that this situation would only get worse for her.

"What do you want from me?"

She ground out between clenched teeth.

"Well, you're a very beautiful little girl. I wanted to play."

He kept calling her 'little girl', his tone full of the condescending melody that made her want to slap him. He was doing it on purpose, obviously. Trying to push her buttons.

"_He underestimates how much practice I've had dealing with my buttons being pushed."_

She thought, stirring a slightly sense of security in knowing this. But when she felt his hands seize her wrists in a sickeningly powerful grip, dragging her up from her protected position on the floor and pulling her roughly up the steps, that sense of security disappeared. A pained whimper fell from her lips and she felt the tears stinging her eyes, blurring her vision. One of his words echoed in her mind. Play. _Play._ She didn't even want to consider what his plans for her were with his use of that particular word.

--

"House! Anything?"

Chase turned up quicker than House would give him credit for. Cuddy had been informed and it was almost as though a red-alert had been sent out. There were cops everywhere. Every time he turned around another blue shirt and badge jumped out at him. Forensic officers were scouring the scene by this time too.

"Dr. House, Dr. Chase."

Hearing their names, both men turned to find a well-dressed detective stood before them. He looked to be no older than mid-thirties, tall, well groomed. House made the quick assumption that he was from a family of cops. But that was just a passing thought. More pressing issues were on his mind right now. Like locating Cameron and finding her alive and unharmed.

"I'm Detective Harry Mason, I'm leading the search for-"

"Have you found anything?"

House asked sharply, cutting him off, not bothering with niceties. Why break the habit of a lifetime and start with those useless formalities now?

"It doesn't look like there was a forced entry. The door was perhaps opened for the intruder and he or she took advantage of this. Do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt Dr. Cameron?"

Both men shook their heads and Mason smiled ruefully.

"Forensics are lifting prints as we speak. We'll need elimination prints from both of you so we can try and come up with some solid evidence."

The day seemed to last forever. Chase had to watch as his home was raided by officer after officer trying to gain some kind of insight into Cameron's location. After a full day of being told next to nothing of the enquiry's progress, House and Chase were both on edge. They'd tried to go back to work. For House, treating his patients would have distracted him fairly well, was it not for Chase's distant look and constantly checking of his cell phone. That distracted him from his distraction. Not helpful.

The day passed without news. Neither Chase nor House got any sleep, tossing and turning, haunted by her face. They were in limbo, not knowing whether she was dead or alive, whether they would ever see her again.

When the phone in the bedroom broke the dawn air with a sharp, shrill ring, House answered it on the first tone. He hadn't been asleep. He also chose to ignore the way his gut reacted to the possibility of a promise, good or bad, on the other end of the line.

"House."

"It's Detective Mason. We think we might have a lead."

--

"Please…"

Cameron whimpered, her whole body screaming out for the torment to stop, no strength left in her to even scream any longer. As though it wasn't bad enough that the man whose name she didn't know and didn't want to know had assaulted and beaten her numerous times, but now he was slowly and mercilessly torturing her with the instruments of her own vocation.

She could hardly even separate the pain of new slices with the scalpel from the cuts he'd inflicted hours before. She was handcuffed to the headboard of a rusty old bed, the only thing between her and the cold metal of the springs being a scruffy aged mattress. He'd stripped her of every shred of dignity she had. Her tears mixed with blood to sting the wounds - but luckily also clean them she reminded herself, needing something to keep her from completely losing her mind – and she was becoming dizzy due to blood loss. Her hair was matted with blood to her forehead and her body was going into shock, shaking violently.

He'd left her alone for a while, but his absence only served to terrify her more. At this point she was praying for death. It would be easier to die than to live through another minute of the agony he so unpityingly administered. And she still didn't know why she was the one on the receiving end of his cold-blooded cruelty. He seemed to have no difficulty in looking straight into her eyes as he cut further, cut deep until she was sure she couldn't be broken any more.

Nausea swept over her once again but didn't even have enough energy to lift herself up far enough to gag. He'd drugged her, tortured her, and raped her. Her baby surely hadn't lived though the trauma – she wasn't even sure she was alive right now – what else could he possibly do that he hadn't already done? Her body becoming numb with cold and pain, sleep seemed like a dream, pulling at her so strongly that she didn't want to fight it. She didn't have that fight left in her anyway.

--

"How do you know it'll be anything more than a dead end?"

House demanded to know, refusing to let his hopes build that she would be at the end of their destination. He was sat riding in the backseat of the unmarked police car, Chase beside him, a uniformed cop in the passenger seat and Mason driving. There were two police cars in front, leading the way. No sirens sounded. No good alerting everyone, especially not the suspect, if they had a true lead.

Mason sighed, his eyes staying trained on the cop car in front of him.

"We don't know. We just hope."

After three apparent leads and two dead ends, the anxiety felt by all the men in the car, two in particular, was blatant. If this was a bust, they had nothing. Sightings of a licence plate-less black Sedan the Detectives believed to be the one their suspect had used to take Cameron, had been spotted the night before and a zealous neighbour had alerted the police to its whereabouts in the early hours of the morning upon her return from a night shift job.

As the cop cars surrounded an unassuming, run-down old apartment building, apparently unoccupied along with the blocks either side, Detective Mason got out of his car and pulled out his gun, edging towards the building and signalling for House and Chase to stay back. He wouldn't be entering initially, just giving the orders. The armed officers had their weapons all trained at the front door to the apartment block, tensed and ready for any kind of movement to alert them to a presence.

In one quick motion, the shrill silence of the dawn was shattered as a silent order was given and yelling, armed officers battered down the door of the building, charging inside. House and Chase could only hold their breaths; the few moments of initial entrance to the property and the endless moments following in which the officers searched the building seemed like an eternity.

A young, rookie officer appeared from inside, his face drained of color, and motioned subtly to Mason, who glanced at the two doctors both silently stood by the car. A forensics doctor was on hand too, waiting to see if she'd be needed. House watched her carefully and as soon as she was signalled for, he knew.

He was sure he'd never travelled so fast with a cane. He was sure no one had. Within seconds he was charging into the apartment, ignoring calls from Chase and numerous police officers. If Cameron was in there he needed to see her. The loaded glances between the cops were driving him crazy.

He followed the main signs of commotion, right behind the Forensics doctor. When he reached the room, there was a grave-looking cop guarding the door and he held House back. But nothing would stop him from getting to her. He'd hurt her once, and there was no way he'd stand aside when she could possibly be physically hurt.

"Excuse me, Sir…"

Another young-ish cop, this time a woman, her eyes trained on the floor, moved past him holding a large blanket. He'd seen those plenty times, both in the numerous exaggerated storylines of General Hospital and used for real on patients at PPTH.

As the door was opened to allow the Forensics doctor and the young cop through, he saw her. His hands instantly covered his mouth; sure he would throw up if he didn't physically hold it back. The image he'd just seen of her, of _his _Cameron, burned behind his eyes. The grave-looking cop blocking the way stood no chance. He was in that room in an instant.

He was sure he flatlined. Just seeing her in the state she was in chilled him to the core. She wasn't conscious, that much he knew. She'd been wrapped in a blanket now but he'd seen…

And he couldn't grasp it. Losing that much blood…especially someone as small and delicate as she was…He kept reminding himself over and over that she was a fighter, she wasn't delicate. But all that fight, all that life she'd had in her…that wasn't the same woman before his eyes. The blanket was red with her blood; the cuts and purple, fresh bruises mottling her once-perfect features; the way she was just so limp and…helpless.

"She's not…"

The words tore from his throat and he felt their burn after they'd left his lips. It was an unspoken question, but also a plea, and also denial. She wasn't dead; he refused to ever believe she'd been taken away like that. Not Cameron, not _his_ perfect Cameron.


	8. Touch

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Hey guys!

I want to thank you all again for the lovely reviews. It makes my day when people take the time to give me feedback on my work :)

I'd just like to say, as I have done on LJ, this story arc, with the assault etc, is dedicated to my beautiful friend Scarlett, the strongest and most inspiring person in my life. I've watched the amazing woman she's become despite what happened, and she's helped me out with Cameron's feelings and reactions in the forthcoming chapters. It's an horrific ordeal to see someone go through and she's the most inspirational person I've ever met. I'm so lucky to be able to call her my friend and these chapters, if not this whole fanfic, is dedicated to her.

I hope you'll keep her in mind when you read the next chapters.

Peace and cheers

Amylia

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Eight - Touch**

"I've got a pulse. Weak as hell, but it's still there!"

The forensics doctor yelled and the ambulances, which had followed the cop cars, were on hand. EMTs swarmed in, pushing him back as he fought to stay by her side.

They loaded her unhesitatingly onto a stretcher, one working to keep her heart beating whilst another tried to stop the bleeding. He grabbed onto her hand, instantly horrified by how icy cold it was. Enclosing her small, weak hand between his larger ones, he willed his warmth into her, willed his life into her. God only knew what traumas she'd suffered through, but as long as she didn't die. She couldn't die.

When she was stretchered outside, there were already neighbours gathering behind the crime scene tape some officer had put up, their curious gazes falling on the unconscious woman being carried out of the abandoned building. Their hushed gossiping created a buzz of tension, as each speculated on who the victim was and what had happened to her.

Chase's heart stopped, just as House's had, when he caught sight of Cameron's lifeless body being brought out of the building, which was now illuminated in the blue glow from the police cars' lights and cast tall shadows across them, the sun slowly beginning to rise behind it. He ran blindly toward her, desperately pleading with her to stay with them.

"Allison, oh God…Ally, please stay with us. Keep fighting, sweetheart."

He couldn't bear to even think of their baby. There was strong doubt that Cameron would make it right now, never mind the baby.

House didn't falter in struggling into the back of the ambulance as the EMTs loaded her in. Chase was left watching helplessly with the cops as the ambulance's sirens wailed and they shot immediately toward PPTH. The journey went by in a blur of panic for House. He understood perfectly what the EMTs were saying to each other, could interpret the assessments of her vitals quite easily, but he simply could not take it all in. He stayed silent, still clasping her hand and unable to tear his eyes from her face.

There were gashes and cuts all over her face; he didn't want to imagine what the rest of her body looked like right now. He'd already seen enough when that door had been opened. She had a black eye developing fast as well as other bruises; blood soaked her hair and ran down her cheeks, completely soaking through the antiseptic cloth with which one medic was gently cleaning the wounds on her face.

"This is…we ain't seen nothin' this bad in a long time."

An older EMT said quietly to House, his Southern accent strongly contrasting the hardened New York accent of his younger colleague. He'd obviously seen a lot as House guessed he'd been in this job for many years. He had that old, weathered look of experience that had worn him down to create a kind of immunity to the horrors of an average day.

So if he was saying it was bad…

House shook his head and tried to find his voice. For once he felt no need to snark. His thoughts were darkened beyond that now. If Cameron didn't recover from this, or even if she did, House vowed to find the son of bitch who'd inflicted her wounds and kill him just as painfully.

"She'll pull through this. She's a fighter."

He'd said the same line over and over to himself in his mind, willing it to help her by saying it out loud. The ambulance came to a stop a few minutes later and the ensuing moments were chaos. Cameron was frantically wheeled out of the ambulance and through the open doors of the hospital, where plenty of doctors were on hand awaiting her arrival. She was taken straight through the Trauma One where they tried to stabilize her and make an assessment of her chances.

House was refused entry into the resuscitation area but his eyes never left her as he stayed glued to the windows, trying in vain to hear what was being said.

"House!"

Hearing Cuddy's voice from down the corridor – she'd obviously been on edge waiting for them to arrive too – House didn't even bother turning. She came to stand beside him, her eyes following his and her hand covering her mouth in horror the moment she caught sight of Cameron behind the glass.

"Oh my God."

She couldn't come up with any kind of constructive input right now. Her mind was awash with the image of the young doctor she'd been so fond of, now lying motionless and covered in her own blood.

"She's a Class Four Haemorrhage, I can see that just by looking at her."

His voice was lower and quieter than she'd ever heard from him. He was troubled by it all, not that she could really expect anything less. She knew as well as everyone else that his feelings for his young immunologist were far from platonic, no matter what he would say on the subject.

"She's-"

"A fighter, I know," he finished for her, still not meeting her eyes, "I keep telling myself that. But look at her. She's lost more than 40 of her blood. Contusions, lacerations…incisions. He tortured her for God knows how long and I don't know how anyone could survive those kinds of injuries. The bruises…she's internally bleeding, probably everywhere."

A hand on his shoulder did nothing to comfort him, his heart feeling like it was as shattered as hers, as she lay lifelessly under the harsh lights of the ER. But they kept working on her and emergency cross-matched blood was rushed down and pumped continuously into her. Twelve units were used in all…double that what would, or should, have been in her body before.

"Who did this to her?"

Cuddy asked in barely more than a choked whisper. House finally turned to look at her, his fists clenched as he tried to stop himself from shaking with anger at the thought of that man.

"I don't know. I didn't stick around at the scene long enough to see if they got him. But if they did, the son of a bitch _won't_ get away with it. I'll see to that personally."

--

"She's stable, we're moving her to the ICU."

Dr. Lewis, one of the Senior Attendings in the ER, finally left Trauma One some two hours later with the news that Cameron had a chance of living. There was no guarantee that she'd ever wake up from the coma she was currently in, but at least she was still with them.

Chase had long since arrived at the hospital and had stood wordlessly next to House as they'd waited for any news. They'd analysed every facial expression, every movement in that room to try and perceive any developments in her condition. It was beyond relief that they felt when Dr. Lewis announced she was stable.

"Dr. Lewis…what about…"

Chase had to ask. The empty feeling in his gut told him the answer along with the look on Lewis' face.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Chase, she lost the baby. That amount of blood loss…we're just lucky we managed to save _her_. We had no chance of saving her pregnancy."

The brutality of this truth almost caused tears to slide down Chase's cheeks. They really had almost lost Cameron. And their baby was gone. As much as it hadn't been a planned pregnancy by any means, Chase had secretly been thrilled when she'd told him. Sure, it had been a shock and took a while to sink in but the thought of her carrying his child had been perhaps one of the most exciting feelings he'd ever experienced.

Having been left at the scene after Cameron had been rushed to the hospital, Chase was better able to fill in the blanks concerning the man who had done this to her.

"He wasn't there. There was no one else at those flats. But they've collected evidence from the scene and they'll be there for a while with that, but…they're gonna need evidence from Cameron too. They have fingerprints but his…h-his DNA…"

He wasn't able to finish that sentence. They both knew the trauma Cameron had suffered, but it still did not bear thinking about. They'd need evidence from her and perhaps they could catch this guy then. All House knew was that he wouldn't rest until he was caught, even if that meant House were to take it upon himself to hunt him down. Chase sighed and sat down on the bench next to them, his head in his hands. He looked back up at House as he spoke again.

"We don't even know who he is…but this can't have been a random attack. Not the things he did to her. One of the cops said there was retribution in those wounds and…I hate to agree with him, but I think he was right. Whoever did this…I don't think he'll be done until we know exactly what message he wanted to get across."

--

For weeks, Chase sat by her bedside. House tried to keep himself pre-occupied with patients but didn't snark at Chase for constantly disappearing to sit with her. He just couldn't bring himself to sit there day after day when the doctors had told them her chances of waking up were minimal. Not that he didn't have a glimmer of hope that she would, but sitting there making unspoken plea bargains with a God he didn't believe existed would just have hit it home that there really _was_ minimal chances. And every time he'd sit there with no movement from her whatsoever, it would just break him down a little bit more each time.

The routine collection of evidence had been carried out not long after she'd been moved to ICU. None of them were very happy with the idea of the exam, but they knew it was necessary if they wanted to see the man responsible for her current state put where he belonged. As the death penalty had been abolished in the state of New Jersey, House could only hope that life imprisonment would await the man.

Now, almost four weeks after the attack, the police were still no closer to finding their suspect. It had been handed over to the Special Victims Unit, specialised in these crimes. The detectives from the SVU had seemed to have a genuine passion for finding and punishing the man for this crime. But he wasn't on the Offenders registry or in any other crime database they'd searched. They'd gone through the whole tirade of noting how for a first offence it was highly unusual that the attack was so severe. That had brought them to questioning whether anyone could have had any kind of motive for wanting to hurt her. The answers all around were vehemently negative. No one would want to hurt Cameron. Everywhere they asked they got the same answer. Who could have had an reason for wanting to hurt such a well-liked, compassionate, sensitive and beautiful woman? She was a good doctor and a good person, who cared deeply about her patients. So how could this happen to her? House felt guilty, but he didn't really understand why. He somehow felt responsible that this attack had fallen on her.

--

Sitting by her bedside for the first real time since she'd been moved to ICU, House let his eyes trace to healing cuts and angry bruises on her face and neck. She still had a black eye but the nasty gash on her cheek was healing nicely, despite that it would likely leave a scar, along with the rest of the little cuts blemishing her otherwise pretty face. To him no amount of bruises or cuts or scars could take away her beauty.

Taking advantage of the quietness of the room and the lulling regular bleep of her heart monitor, House examined the file of a current patient. Nothing special jumped out at him. The patient history was standard, if anything, and the patient had no allergies other than pineapple, which could in no way have caused multiple organ failure as was presenting currently.

--

Cameron was aware of a woozy sensation fogging her mind, numbness brought on by large amounts of morphine. She could hear her own heart monitor beeping intermittently, increasing ever so slightly as consciousness slowly returned. The ache in her entire body was dull in general but in her right leg and her chest the pain was sharper, more apparent. Her eyes gradually began to open, but she could feel the resistance of one and knew a black eye when she felt one. Her vision finally coming into focus, she found herself staring up at the whitewashed ceilings and harsh fluorescent light of the hospital in which she'd worked for the best part of three years.

Her mind was a blank as to how exactly she'd ended up in the hospital bed, but as she felt a shooting pain through her head when she tried to turn it, the memories all came flooding back and she inhaled sharply, her heart monitor picking up the sudden stress.

House looked up pointedly over his glasses as the heart monitor's bleeping increased. And he was sure his stomach and heart both did somersaults. Her eyes were open. She was looking up at the ceiling with wide eyes – as wide as possible considering one of them wouldn't open properly – and he could see the anxiety in her features. She was remembering. He could almost see the images before his own eyes again and he quickly forced them out.

"Cameron…"

He said gently, hauling himself to his feet and grabbing his cane he'd hooked onto the chair. Moving up to stand at her bedside, she painfully turned her head a little so she could look up at him. The affliction he could see in her haunted blue-green eyes cut deep. Her chin trembled and silent tears began to fall down her cheeks, stinging the cuts.

"You remember…"

He said simply, his eyes locked onto hers, despite how difficult it was to witness that agony she was so clearly feeling. The way she bit her lip trying to fight further tears gave him his answer.

"Who…was he?"

She asked hoarsely. Her breath rasping and catching in her throat, as dry as dust…the dust she could still taste from that awful prison. She gagged at the memory, continuous and distressing images flashing before her eyes. She shook her head furiously to try and clear them from her mind, pushing through the pain of the movements.

House couldn't give her an answer and he couldn't bring himself to say he didn't know. She needed comfort, not to be terrified further with the knowledge that her attacker was still out there somewhere.

A thought suddenly occurred to her and she pressed a bandaged hand to her stomach through the covers, her eyes searching House's desperately. He broke their gaze.

"House…please tell me my baby's alright…please…"

Her tearful sobs pleading ardently with him for the relief of assurance that her baby had survived sliced into his normally unaffected heart. When it came to her, his heart could never be unaffected. How could he tell her she'd lost her baby when everything else had been taken from her too?

"Allison, you lost too much blood…"

A broken-hearted and agonised cry tore right from her heart and she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing herself into the bed as though it would take her out of the unbearable world she'd woken up in if she pressed hard enough. Her whole body shook with sobs as she rode out the emotions. She'd lost everything because of one person. That man had snatched every shred of her away until she was now just a shell.

House almost had to turn away. Just seeing her in that much emotional pain made him want to throw up. But instead, he stayed by her side, tentatively reaching out to cup her cheek in a silent gesture of support and love.

But as his fingers grazed her cheek she shot away from him, still shaking with sobs, eyes wide with instinctive alarm as a haunted expression passed over her. He'd never seen look in her eyes before and it chilled him. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the bed covers. Cowering against one side of the bed, as far as possible from his touch, words passed her lips that broke his heart.

"Please…don't…touch me."


	9. Personal

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**Chapter Nine – Personal**

"How is she?"

House was interrogated as he left her room, nurses taking his places to check her over. He stopped Chase from rushing in to her. She was in a state, no use stressing her out even more. She needed time to settle.

"How do you think she is? She just woke up to find she lost her kid and she's now remembering what she went though. So yeah, she's all puppies and flowers."

House snapped, leaning wearily on his cane as he headed down the corridor, planning to lock himself away in his office to let this situation sink in.

--

"House…"

Cuddy's voice repeating his name brought him back to reality and his stress-relieving ball fell to the floor as his attention shifted from it. He made no move to retrieve it. Glancing, uninterested, back at Cuddy stood in his doorway, he didn't reply, his silence being an unspoken snark of response.

"She's awake."

She finally added and House swung his chair around to face her.

"I know; I was there. She freaked out when I touched her."

His voice was low, his eyes trained on his cane as he swung it from hand-to-hand, in place of the ball, to distract himself from letting his thoughts fully travel back to the woman he'd finally admitted to himself that he loved. And now she was so badly broken that he couldn't even touch her.

"That can only be a natural reaction right now."

She tried to reassure him, a sympathetic expression settling on her features as she studied him. He'd become so withdrawn and distant in the last few weeks and Cuddy had been surprised that he was showing the anxiety he felt. She knew he'd normally just delegate worse and worse jobs to the remaining fellows, but instead he'd been drowning himself in case after case, solving them on auto drive before withdrawing to his office to brood. Everyone had noticed it, and he didn't hide the fact that he was apprehensive. But perhaps it was so insufferable that he simply couldn't manage to hide it, not when he was so busy trying to make people believe he could deal with the leg pain just fine as well. There was only so much of a façade one person could assume before they started to crack under the pressure of their own mask.

The tension between Chase and House had been near unbearable too since Cameron's ordeal. It was clear that they both felt guilty so they took it out on each other, trading cutting comments and throwing the blame around like one of House's toys.

"She's been asking for you."

Those few words made House's gaze shoot up to meet Cuddy's, searching her face as though to make certain of what she'd said. He didn't need to be told twice and in no time he was standing outside her room again, just as he had an hour earlier.

She was staring up at the ceiling and anyone would have thought her expression to be vacant or distant, but he could see the torment bubbling under it.

"You asked for me?"

He said as softly as possible so as not to startle her. He'd never before felt the need to treat her like porcelain and never before had a situation warranted it. She'd huff and say she could take care of herself and didn't need the baby gloves. But right now, the slightest touch really could break those fine strands of sanity she was so desperately clinging to. After all, that's what it had seemed like when he'd made contact before.

"I'm sorry for freaking out earlier."

She said, her eyes slowly falling from the ceiling to meet his, impossible baby blues connecting with the blue-greens of the ocean. This was as much contact as she could take right now and he swallowed the lump in his throat at that thought.

"It was understandable. I should have realised not to touch you so soon…"

He regretted his word choice instantly as she broke their eye contact and he felt the loss keenly. They both knew where that sentence was headed and they both knew it was better left unspoken.

Silence permeated the room, with the machines providing an ironically comforting resonance to break it. She found his eyes again and he held her gaze steadily.

"The police were here after you left. I felt so useless, because I couldn't even give them a definitive description."

She sighed in frustration and rubbed her head.

"Every time I try to think…about him…it's too much."

Her eyes misted with fresh tears and she swallowed a few times to fight them back and steel herself. The ordeal lingered on her senses and she wanted to gag.

She could taste the dust, the coppery aftertaste of her own blood, the burning friction of the rope she'd been gagged with. She could feel the blaze of the metal handcuffs cutting into her wrists, the searing heat of the deep wounds all over her body, the thick blood matted in her hair. And she could smell the place again, overpowering and damp with cold, clogging so thickly that it stung her eyes and throat just to breathe. As it flooded her sanity, her heart was beating furiously, her senses on overdrive.

House could only watch as the panic gripped her. He wondered anxiously whether these panic attacks would be a regular occurrence. Not that it wasn't comprehensible, but he could see that if she didn't calm down she'd pass out and possibly have a seizure. That wouldn't help matters in the slightest. He was wary of trying to physically calm her down though, worried of the effect touching her again would have and if it would make her panic worsen.

"Allison, take deep breaths."

He instructed, edging slowly to her bedside. Her breathing was shallow and laboured and she couldn't catch her breath, the lack of oxygen making her dizzy. Gripping the metal bars of the bed tightly she consciously tried to deepen her inhalations, her eyes wide with fear once again, praying those images wouldn't take this opportunity to haunt her once again.

She felt an oxygen mask being gently pressed over her nose and mouth and clutched at it desperately. Within a few moments, breathing the oxygen in deeply, her heart finally started to slow. When she felt able to, she finally lifted the mask a little and choked out her words.

"I'm maxed on morphine, can't feel much of anything now…that's supposed to stop the panic attacks."

Her voice was shaky and she finally took of the mask. Just seeing her lose control of herself like that was unnerving and House felt helpless. He couldn't do anything, because touching her would be involved and at the moment, refraining from doing anything could possibly be the lesser of the two evils, as much as that pained him.

"Did the police tell you anything?"

House asked slowly, wondering if they'd given her any breaking news that he hadn't received yet. Cameron shook her head a little, her body finally starting to relax again, as much as it could right now.

"No, they just said I'm safe now and everyone's doing everything they can."

'_So they didn't tell her he's walking around free as a bird then?'_ he thought, but kept it to himself, choosing instead just to nod.

Dropping down into the bedside chair, he studied her for a few moments as she pulled restlessly at a loose strand of the bed sheet.

"How are you holding up?"

He asked, knowing it was a stupid question and feeling awkward trying to make what he saw as 'small talk'. She obviously wasn't 'holding up' – he'd just witnessed a panic-induced attack and had to give her oxygen. But she lifted her eyes to his and acknowledged his effort gratefully with a slight smile, able to read the worry and trying to reassure him.

"I guess I've been better. Cuddy said the therapist is going to come down tomorrow…but…I don't want to talk about it all. I _can't_. Not yet, I just need to get my head straight before I get all the questions and pitying looks."

A long sigh passed her lips and she leaned back on the pillows.

"They…said I might not be able to…h-have any more children."

She choked out, tears welling up her eyes again. She fought them back, refusing to allow herself to cry anymore. House didn't know how to reply, but he tensed as he saw how excruciating this harsh reality was for her.

Raising her head again she trained her eyes on an invisible spot on the opposite wall, focusing her attention to keep her mind occupied on something other than tears and the fact that she might never have the chance to be a mother. By foregoing eye contact, it was slightly less afflicting in some way.

"I always thought 'someday' – I wanted a family at some point. I wanted to be a mommy. When I found out I was pregnant, it felt like my world was falling apart, and I feel so guilty for thinking like that now. I'd wished so hard that it hadn't happened, cried myself to sleep some nights. It had just been a bad time for me to get pregnant, and as much as I know Chase would have stuck around and seen it through…I didn't want to put that on him. And I didn't want to be with him."

She paused for a moment, dislodging the physical embodiment of the emotions stuck in her throat by swallowing the lump she felt there and once again holding back the tears.

"I didn't want to be alone through it though. And I hated myself so much for it happening in the way it did. As much as I knew I'd wanted and hoped for kids in the future, it hadn't been the 'right time' and…I constantly asked the God I don't even believe in, 'why?' because the circumstances were…less than perfect. Not what I'd want to bring a child into."

Once again the stopped, biting her lip and finally tearing her gaze from the wall.

"And now, there won't ever be a 'right time' because I've not got a second chance. I wished that baby away so badly that I threw away my hope of ever being a mom."

House didn't even know what words to attempt as a shot at comfort. He was way out of his depth; this was personal on a whole new level. He was in at the deep end, skipping Feelings 101 and hurtling straight for Finals.

"It's not your fault. None of it's your fault at all."

He mumbled quietly, but loud enough for her to hear.

"You need rest…"

He added awkwardly and Cameron closed her eyes as another long sigh escaped her.

She couldn't expect him to suddenly become a shrink overnight, when he could barely concede to having emotions himself. Just because she was in limbo with her own emotional turmoil didn't miraculously turn him into a brilliant talk therapist overnight.

"I'll come and check on you tomorrow."

He said carefully, pushing himself to his feet and turning toward the door. Pausing before he left, he spoke over his shoulder.

"You'll get through this. I'm proud of you."

It was almost inaudible but she caught it and watched despondently as he disappeared out of the door.


	10. Hallucination

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**Chapter Ten – Hallucination**

Trying to fall into a peaceful sleep was like attempting to sleep through a hurricane. Or at least, the memories that flashed behind her eyes felt equally as destructive as a hurricane. At some point during the middle of the night, her fever had peaked and she was hallucinating, her whole body covered in a veil of perspiration. The night-shift nurses did their best to calm her, administering a strong sedative. But that only served to make her appear calm. Her whole body was trembling and the soothing words of the nurses were lost on her. Once they were satisfied she was stable, having sent off urgent chem. tests to ascertain the cause of her fever, they left her alone again. All Cameron could think about, as she felt the sedatives overwhelm her, was how she wished House were sat by her bedside. She'd felt safer with him around, as long as no physical contact was made.

"Hello beautiful."

The voice invaded every part of her mind and her eyes flew open, all thought of sleep dispelled instantly and replaced with devastating terror. She couldn't scream because of the sedatives, though she did try, her throat hoarse and painful. Her heart monitor was protesting loudly to the stress and she was sure it would flatline at any moment, proving she'd died and gone straight to hell. He reached over and pulled out the wire, the screen instantly going black and silence congealing the tension, her eyes fixed on him, terrified that as soon as she blinked he'd kill her.

Praying he just was just another hallucination, she fought back the nausea of fear threatening to overcome her. The way she felt right now was indescribable. She'd never been so gripped with fear just by hearing someone's voice.

"Wow, they were right, you really are a little fighter aren't you."

He stated, sounding almost impressed, but in a patronising manner. He knew how frightened she was; it was painfully obvious. Leaning over her to inspect the cuts on her face, inspect his creations that were healing quite nicely, she shrank back to try and keep as much distance between them as possible as a petrified whimper escaped from deep within her.

He saw her reactions but gave nothing away in his own expression. He reached out and gripped her chin, raising her face so that she was forced to meet his eyes. Tear spilled down her cheeks and sobs of terror shook her tiny frame.

"What's wrong Princess? Not happy to see me?"

He leered and in one quick movement, before he'd even had a chance to realize what she'd done, her hand had slammed down on the emergency call button next to her bed, alerting the nurse's station in the hallway to a problem. As his attention was momentarily averted from his, she brought her knee sharply up, catching him square in the groin and causing him to jerk away from her and double over.

Hearing footsteps hurrying down the corridor toward them, he regained his stance even though she could see she'd definitely caused some pain, and he grabbed her chin again, narrowing his eyes as he snarled.

"That wasn't very bright, Allison."

His voice was strained, but he managed to make up for it in being so much stronger than her and pressed a rough and forceful kiss to her lips. She struggled against him but she didn't have to put up much of a fight as he quickly let go and in the split moment she closed her eyes to force her heart to slow and to try and rid herself of his taste on her lips, he was gone.

--

"He came back."

Were the first words Cameron said as House entered her room the next day. House stopped dead, his features instantly darkening. Hearing those words, his blood ran cold and a surge of pure fury ran through him. He was taunting them, it was clear to House. If she'd freaked out at a touch from House, whom she'd had feelings for, he couldn't imagine her reaction to being forced to see her attacker again. And he knew it would have made her acutely aware of the fact that he was still out there, evading the police. Not exactly a comforting thought for anyone, least of all her.

"Did he touch you? I'll fucking _kill_ him. I told those damn nurses to have someone watch over you, how the hell did he get in here?!"

She'd never seen him so angry. His agitation was clear from the way he paced the floor. He stopped suddenly and disappeared from the room, leaving Cameron to wonder anxiously where he was going.

--

"I _told _you to have someone watch her. She was raped for Christ's sake and her attacker's still out there somewhere!"

House fumed at the nurse who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was now under fire from his fury. She looked back at him, confusion written clearly on her face.

"Dr. House I really don't know what you're talking about. We did watch her last night-"

"Then explain to me how the hell her attacker got in there to terrorise her some more!"

The surprise on the nurse's face threw him but he stood his ground. She shook her head.

"I don't know what she thinks she saw, but she spiked a fever of 104 and was hallucinating last night…nobody went into her room apart from me and two other nurses."

House's fury instantly dissipated and he looked down at the floor. It was his way of apologising and she understood, turning back to her charts as House made his way slowly back to Cameron's room.

As he entered she looked at him expectantly and he sighed a little. It was somewhat of a relief to him, but he doubted she'd just simply accept it if he told her. And his heart still twisted up in knots as he thought of how badly the hallucinations must have affected her.

"What you saw…Cameron, you spiked a 104 fever…you were hallucinating. It wasn't real."

She didn't know why his words hurt, perhaps the fact that he didn't believe her. But she knew she'd hallucinated in the early hours…and she had _not_ hallucinated her attacker.


	11. Patient

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**Chapter Eleven – Patient**

"She's not lying, House, he was here. I believe her."

Chase stormed through the door to House's office. He was angry. House had instantly put the incident down to trauma and a high-grade fever – which, he pointed out calmly, were both very reasonable diagnostic conclusions – but he wouldn't admit the reason for his ardency in that it had all been in her mind was really because he couldn't bear to think of her being in such worryingly obvious danger when she was supposedly safe, when they were allegedly protecting her. If he could get to her even here, then _he_ couldn't feel like he could protect her. He'd failed once, in his eyes, and the thought of being helpless to prevent any more pain actually made him feel nauseous. They had plain-clothes officers stationed throughout the hospital now, and any sightings of the attacker trying to make another appearance would be duly taken care of. For this reason, House sort of hoped he _would_ show up again, because they had a clear description of him and would easily, finally, catch him. How he'd evaded the cops for so long, House just couldn't understand.

"A fever of 104 isn't exactly going to mean she had a perfectly clear mind, Chase."

House growled a response, tossing the faithful ball into the air before smoothly catching it with no effort. He was growing tired of the constant droning of Chase's conflict to everything he said. He knew part of it was because Cameron could barely look at him now, yet she asked for House regularly. House had seen the look of dejection on the younger doctor's face when he'd rushed to her side only to have her shy away from him and direct her words to House instead, who had made no move toward her from his position in the doorway.

"Yes, but I _know_ her and I _know_ she's not making this up-"

House instantly cut him off, dragging himself to his feet and glaring the young man down as he spoke evenly, his tone clearly indicating his contempt for what Chase had just insinuated.

"I didn't _say_ she was making it up," he growled coolly, "And don't imply that I don't _know_ her. She doesn't want to know _you_ right now, and I think we've both figured that one out."

His tone was dry and tight, his words slicing to the raw wound Cameron herself had unknowingly inflicted on Chase's heart by pushing him away. He felt useless, not being able to help her in any way, and constantly being pushed out. He'd known her feelings for him didn't run as deep as his did for her, but to be cast off after what had happened…it rendered him vulnerable to his rejection, which he couldn't simply accept and brush off like he usually would have.

Chase watched without a word as House limped toward the door, doubting it was clinic duty he was headed to right now.

--

He saw her before she saw him. For a few moments the whole world seemed to move in slow motion. The door in the lobby swung open and in she strolled, bright and confident as the justice she fought for.

"House."

She greeted warmly as she caught sight of him and sauntered over.

"Stacy."

He replied, letting no emotion drip into his voice. That ship had sailed a long time ago, he had more pressing issues right now. Like the Reuben calling his name and the woman currently lying in a hospital bed on the next floor.

"You look well."

Small talk. He didn't look 'well' at all. He'd hardly slept in the past month since Cameron had suffered the ordeal, and he spent most of his time throwing himself into double and even triple shifts just to take his mind off her.

"Why are you here?"

He asked flatly, averting his gaze from her as he let her comment slide. He didn't return it – why bother, it was just a useless nicety anyway and she knew him well enough to know he didn't do those – instead choosing to jump directly to the point, as usual. Her eyes left him for a moment, as though she'd expected his near-hostility but hoped she wouldn't receive it.

"I'm Cameron's lawyer. I know what happened, Cuddy filled me in. She was the one who called me, and I took the case on straight away. Not my usual kind of case whilst working in this hospital," she smiled ruefully at her light-hearted stab at his partiality for acquiring difficult lawsuits, "but I'm on board and I'm going to win this."

She reached out and squeezed his arm lightly. He didn't react, just watched her hand rest on his. He'd loved this woman and a part of him would always stir with the memories of what they had once been, but he didn't feel the same about her as he had. A lot of those feelings of uncontrollable love, which he had simply had to accept and try to deal with in her case, had ebbed away since she'd left. Now here she was again. And he could safely say he was somewhat relieved that those feelings didn't return as soon as she had. He was in love with another woman now, not that he'd actually admit it…at least not verbally. It was pretty obvious to most people that his feelings for Cameron were stronger than as 'just a boss' or even 'just a friend'. It had been the hot gossip among bored nurses and naïve young interns for a long time, but he just ignored that kind of childish scandal. His feelings were his and his alone. If he wouldn't even share them with the woman concerned, it wasn't exactly likely he'd share with the rest of PPTH. And now Stacy had turned up, he didn't doubt the rumour mill would be at its peak within no time. He was going to be having serious words with Cuddy. She'd asked Stacy to come back without even consulting him on the decision. Of course, House knew he may well have kicked against it.

"So, you have the guy then? Seeing as you're so sure you'll win this."

He raised his eyebrows, his piercing gaze boring right into her. Stacy shifted uncomfortably and House moved his eyes from her. He knew they hadn't caught their suspect yet. He was evading them with worrying dexterity. Sighing, he lifted his weight from his right leg a little more and looked back up to meet Stacy's eyes.

"You win this. I don't care if it takes a year; I want her safe. And right now, even here, she's not safe. He turned up. He's smart, but still stupid, and he'll probably show up again, seeing as he got away with it once. Mind games aren't exactly what they recommend for Cameron in therapy. She doesn't need this, she's been though enough."

Stacy was taken aback by his sudden sincerity, the earnestness with which his words were spoken. And the empathy was also unexpected. Not like House at all. As she watched his walk toward the elevators, she saw it – what everyone else in this place had seen a long time ago. It somewhat saddened her. He was a part of her past that she'd never been able to fully let go of and he'd always been _hers_. And now, after all this time she was back and…he'd changed. He wasn't hers anymore.

It was subtle and he was still his seemingly cold, sarcastic self to everyone else, but the sparkle in his eyes had dulled, his limp was slightly more pronounced – as though there was some kind of weight adding to the burden of pain and pressing down on his shoulders – and his frown lines were a little deeper, the trouble and torment that had afflicted him starting to physically manifest itself. It could just be that time had passed, they'd both gotten older, and physical changes were bound to stand out a little more when she hadn't seen him in so long. But that dullness in his eyes, it softened them too. Had it been Cameron who'd actually managed to soften them? Stacy didn't doubt it.

--

"I want to come back to work."

Cameron stated, her no-nonsense, won't-take-no-as-an-answer expression and tone striking a chord. That sounded like the Cameron he'd known before this nightmare had gripped them. She didn't sound like the scared little girl trapped in the shell of fear and vulnerability that had taken over her since the ordeal.

But still, House shook his head.

"Five weeks isn't recovery, Cameron."

He said calmly, though secretly he was delighted that she felt up to it. Not that he hadn't expected she'd be itching to get back on her feet before long; after all she _was_ still Cameron, a self-admitted workaholic.

"House, I'm going out of my mind stuck in this bed twenty-four-seven! I _need_ a case. Even if it means you guys bring one here. I need to do _something_!"

She'd started out in a demanding, strong tone but now she'd reverted to the pleading, puppy eyes that he simply couldn't resist. Just like Stacy had, she knew exactly which buttons to press and how.

"_One_ case. And you don't leave that bed. You can order the kids around to your heart's content but your feet do not touch that floor."

They were his conditions and he'd stick to them. As much as she felt up to it, he knew she wasn't ready to be up and about yet. She pouted, holding out on a deal until she could try and better it. She'd learned well. But House wasn't going to jeopardise her recovery and set it back any by letting his exhaust herself so soon.

"Deal or no deal."

He added, and she could tell his resolve would not weaken. Sighing reluctantly, she agreed with a small nod and rolled her eyes.

"Good. Differential diagnosis will be in here for one case. The slightest sign that it's too much for you and we leave."

He warned sternly and she kept quiet. He nodded before leaving the room, paging both Chase and Foreman to let them know how Cameron had so easily wrapped him around her finger. Of course, he wouldn't say _that_, though he was sure they'd come to that opinion right away.

--

"Cameron, get back to your room! This was not part of the deal. Who the hell let you out of bed?"

House stared at her in utter disbelief and annoyance, fuelled by worry, as Cameron stood in the doorway to the differential diagnosis room, fully clothed and apart from the healing cuts on her face, the limp walked with – ironically enough, almost matching his, he noted – and the scar across her cheek, she looked like the old Cameron they'd all known. Chase and Foreman rushed to her side, as though if she wasn't supported and treated like a frail, weak little girl she'd break.

"I broke the rules. So, sue me. I couldn't spend another minute in that bed. I'm fine, I need to get back to work, and it'll take my mind off things. Who's the patient?"

She shrugged off their help and as steadily as possibly made her way to the table, sitting down, looking intently at the whiteboard. Chase and Foreman exchanged wary glances until House sighed in frustration and motioned for them to sit too. No good arguing with her, she'd win. And she knew it.

"Stop treating me like a patient, alright?"

Cameron said pointedly to Foreman and Chase, who had sat down, but were watching her with tense anticipation, as though she'd suddenly burst into tears or have some kind of meltdown at any moment. She looked to House, knowing that if anyone, he'd treat her 'normally'. He took the hint.

"Twenty-nine year old male, diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukaemia four years ago and on ATRA trials, collapsed at work. His hot secretary brought him in, only reason I actually bothered with a history."

All three of his fellows rolled their eyes, but Chase and Foreman were glad to see he wasn't just laying everything out and then disappearing to his office, locking himself away as he had done for the past numerous weeks. Cameron's presence seemed a balancing one, as always, even though none of them were entirely convinced she should be up and on her feet again.

Nodding thoughtfully and running the symptoms through he mind, she tried not to panic when her mind stayed blank. She knew this, she could propose some reasonable suggestions easily, as she always did…right? Blinking a few times, she consciously tried to slow her heart a little, wondering why it was racing, and tried to curb the frustration of her completely vacant mind.

"Cameron? Are you feeling-"

"I'm fine."

She snapped, cutting Chase off, who tried not to show how wounded he felt at these constantly cut-offs. Instead, he focused his gaze on the whiteboard, drowning the humiliation of her sharp response. He couldn't help that he cared.

Suddenly, she stood up, the anxiety in her expression unnerving all three men, Chase and Foreman instantly standing and stepping toward her. A hand on her stomach, she stumbled a little as she tried to maintain her balance, her vision and her colleagues' voices all blurring. Her breathing became shallower as she panicked about losing her control. She could still understand what was being said but she was straining to balance everything out.

"You are _not_ fine."

Foreman's voice cut through the haze that seemed to have engulfed her and she felt strong hands supporting her by the shoulders. The strong grip blindsided the abdominal pains and they paled in significance as she felt the familiar wave of a panic attack. She was starting to get utterly sick of these occurrences, but she had no way of controlling them. The therapist had said they may fade eventually but it's just a case of managing them for now, and she wasn't managing very well at this current moment. Flashes in front of her eyes tortured her and she heard someone's screams. It took her a moment to realise they were her own.

She found herself sat in the chair again as the panic subsided, the vice-grip on her shoulders gone too. Chase and House's faces came into focus as they stood looking worriedly down upon her; Foreman crouched in front of her checking her pupils with an ophthalmoscope.

Once the panic had finally dissipated completely, the shooting pains in her stomach worsened, stronger and sharper jolts causing her to cry out and clutch her stomach, razor-sharp tears pricking her eyes. Another jolt hit her and she gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening with the pressure. Foreman stood and shook his head.

"Nothing seems out of the ordinary there. Pupils aren't dilated, retinal blood vessels look fine too."

"Cameron, where does it hurt?"

Chase asked, as though he was talking to a three-year old with a tummy ache. House cast him a disgusted and distasteful glance before rephrasing it himself.

"What are your symptoms?"

Cameron appreciated both approaches – Chase was concerned and he wasn't able to separate his emotions from the job when it came to her, as House could. But House was treating her as he knew she preferred. He didn't coddle, which would only have served to increase her worry about what exactly was going on in her body, and instead treated her like the doctor she was.

"Acute abdominal pain, dizziness, pyrexia and nausea."

She answered, not looking up at any of them. She hadn't told them of any previous abdominal pains and she felt House's penetrating gaze held steadily on her.

"How long have you kept this to yourself? And do you know how stupid you are?"

House's tone was harsh but the sudden anger he felt toward her was fuelled by the sickening worry he'd never let anyone else see. He couldn't understand why she'd not told them about her symptoms. She was a doctor; she ought to know what withholding symptoms could cause. But perhaps she just hadn't told _him_ about it, though Chase and Foreman looked equally uninformed.

She didn't reply for a moment, her fingers once again tightening on the edge of the glass as a sharp hiss escaped her lips, riding over another wave of pain.

"I've been nauseous for a week. Dizziness, this is the first time it's presented, but I _have_ been held prisoner in bed until now, so who knows if it would have presented earlier. The abdominal pain has been constant but dull up until now. OBGYN said it would be down to…to the…miscarriage."

She still had trouble acknowledging the fact that she'd lost the baby. And the word 'miscarriage' stirred the ache in her heart. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle any baby-cases for a while yet. Well, depending on when they'd let her back to work after this episode.

Swiftly, House raised his face, that familiar look of dawning realisation gracing his expression and causing her heart to skip a beat. He only got that look when he had some kind of revelation. She waited impatiently for some kind of explanation, desperate for some idea of what was happening to her that the OBGYN could have missed. When she could be more-or-less impartial whilst doing her job, diagnosing and saving other people, when it came to herself, she found it so much harder to view the situation objectively, as many people would, she knew. Right now, she was the one who would possibly be at the receiving end of a battery of intensive tests, so her mind wasn't so clear.

"Cameron, we need ESR, CBC, BhCG and Fibrinogen levels. Let Chase do a blood test."

Cameron studied him for a moment, a frown of confusion on her face.  
"Why? My hCG levels have been starting to decrease. That's normal."  
She didn't understand what House was getting at. He himself had been the one to tell her, less than twenty-four hours since she'd arrived at the hospital almost six weeks ago, that she'd lost the baby. She hadn't had a D&C and they'd not scheduled one, because it looked as though it wouldn't be needed.

"And schedule an ultra-sound."

House directed to Chase, adding to Cameron's confusion.

"What the hell kind of game is this?"

Cameron asked angrily. If it hadn't been bad enough losing the baby, now he wanted to reopen that still-sore wound? Her hCG levels had been decreasing slowly; though the OBGYN had noted that it didn't usually take so long to return to normal. It had been put down to the trauma she'd suffered though, and they hadn't been worried about it. Now, however, House's piqued interest unnerved her a little. Why did he want her to have an ultra-sound?

"No game, that'd be a bit cruel, don't you think?" At her warning glare, he shook his head and turned serious, "They assumed a miscarriage and all signs pointed to it. What if it wasn't? What if your results were screwed up because of everything else your body was going through."

She could barely process what he was saying and she just stared into space, his words swirling around her head in a misty fog. Coming back to reality, she took a moment to gather her jumbled thought before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"You...think I might not have miscarried?"


	12. Blessings

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Twelve – Blessings**

"I don't know why you're putting her through these tests, House. She lost that baby; it was documented. These symptoms can easily be explained by the Paroxetine"

Cuddy had her hands on her hips, a stern look of weary tedium settled on her expression. It was an expression she often wore when dealing with House. And she had the tone of a somnolent mother trying to explain to a child why sticking sharp objects into electric sockets wasn't such a good idea. But then, maybe he never had that talk.

"She would have presented sooner and more violently if she was reacting to the antidepressants. Was the foetus physically removed from her?"

He paused a moment for effect before continuing

"You know it wasn't, but your awesome OBGYN decided, 'nah, kiddie couldn't survive that,' and passed her off. Ignored the abdominal pains and nausea. It _wasn't_ just the after-effects of the panic attack drugs, the trauma or 'miscarriage'. We took blood tests and sent her up for an ultrasound. Care to place a bet on who's going to be proven right?"

He raised a challenging eyebrow and Cuddy gave him a disbelieving stare.

"I cannot believe you're betting on this-"

"Why, because you know I'm right?"

She simply let out a long sigh of exasperation and shook her head. She didn't want to believe Cameron could still be pregnant, because if she was, the complications she would most likely suffer would not be pleasant. Not to mention what the trauma and meds could have caused.

House and Cuddy had traded more blows in the past ten minutes than they did in an average week. Cuddy had objected to them battering Cameron's already-exhausted body with more tests when she needed to be resting, for a cause she didn't believe was liable for the symptoms. They were submitting her to the heartache of hope too. She'd been told she'd lost the baby, had mourned that loss and had been trying to cope with everything else too, and now here they were giving her a hope that perhaps she still had the chance of her baby still being alive.

"Fire your OBGYN. She misses the fact that her patients are still pregnant and writes them off as miscarriages. Wait, second thoughts, don't fire her, because whatever she's doing is preventing you from spawning, and that's a positive, because you'd be a terrible mother."

He limped out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Cuddy to feel the burn of his callous words. That had been cold, even for him.

--

"Don't take it out on Cuddy, House. She's got a point."

House looked back to find Stacy stood a few yards away and sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned to face her.

"And what would you know about this?"

Stacy shrugged, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face.

"She vented. She's pissed that you're-"

House waved a hand at her and pulled an obnoxious face.

"Yeah, I've had the lecture. But I know I'm right."

With a slightly rueful but amused smile she shook her head, choosing not to comment. He always knew he was right. As much as she tried to brush of her subjective thoughts on the whole pregnancy dilemma, Stacy kind of hoped it _would_ turn out that the baby had survived. Not for the sake of Cameron's sanity, but rather for a more selfish reason. If she was pregnant with Chase's baby, the likelihood of House getting involved in that triangle was negligible, right? If Cameron was out of the picture, and now that she was separated from Mark, she had another shot with House. She still loved him, that much she had realized. And it had been like a knife to the heart to return to PPTH and find him so obviously caught up on Cameron. She'd thought she'd been imagining it all those years ago, telling herself he wouldn't go for the young, ingénue doctor solely because she was so naïve, trusting and…young. He was quite a few years her senior and House had once mentioned his unease at her advances awhile back. Even then though, lying in bed with him as he told her about their dysfunctional relationship, she'd been able to tell his feelings weren't entirely platonic. She'd brushed it off however, and chose to believe his words rather than what her gut had been telling her.

And sure enough, upon returning years after leaving, his once well-hidden feelings for her were slightly less easily concealed. He openly cared about her, though he sometimes managed to catch himself and covered it with his usual sarcasm.

Seeing House was about to turn and leave, Stacy called his name to get his attention again. Once he turned back to face her, she found his eyes.

"I didn't come to fight Cuddy's battles. I just came to find you to tell you they've got the guy in custody."

And with that, she left him stood alone in the corridor, her revelation causing shockwaves to reverberate though him.

--

Cameron kept her eyes on the ceiling as the sonographer gently lifted her top to expose her stomach and spread the cold gel across it. She stiffened a moment at the sudden coldness and the fact that the gel was being rubbed on some of the tender wounds that were still healing. She tried to relax, tried not to clench, as House would say, in anticipation of what the results of this test could be.

"You wanna see?"

The soft-spoken, middle-aged woman asked. She wasn't the same woman who had diagnosed a miscarriage and Cameron was somewhat relieved. She knew if it turned out she was still pregnant, and that woman was anywhere in the close vicinity, it wouldn't be a pretty scene. Because the drugs she'd been administered since they told her she'd lost her baby did not account for an active pregnancy, and she was well aware of the effects they could have on an unborn if it was indeed still alive.

She shook her head, keeping her hands tightly balled into fists and her eyes trained on a ceiling tile. The woman nodded in understanding and turned her concentration to the screen. The few minutes that followed seemed like an eternity and Cameron didn't realise at first that she'd been holding her breath.

"Allison…"

Hearing her name, her head snapped to the woman and she followed her gaze to the screen, where she was pointed before looking back at Cameron with a small smile.

"That's a little heartbeat."

--

House, Chase, Foreman and even Cuddy were waiting outside the room. As she was pushed through the doors in a wheelchair, all eyes fell expectantly on her, the tension thick in the air. Raising her eyes to Chase's, she managed to grace him with a smile.

"I'm pregnant."

She said softly and the look on his face was one of pure delight. He shot to her side, desperate to throw his arms around her but refraining the instant her reached her and saw the nervousness in her eyes at his sudden close proximity. Instead, he just grinned down at her, unable to find words.

House watched the exchange and looked away. She was still pregnant. It was a miracle, but he'd been right, it explained the symptoms. That baby was a fighter, just like its mother. In a way he was pleased, because he'd once again been proven right on a diagnosis and the look of shame on Cuddy's face at having brushed off the idea was something to revel in. But on the other hand, she was pregnant with Chase's baby and when she'd found that out last time she'd gone running back to him. Though, House had to admit, he was partially to blame for that too. He'd kissed her, screwed her head up, pushed her away. But he argued that he'd only retained the distance between them 'for her own good', because as much as he wanted her, as much as he was in love with her, he couldn't be what she needed, or what she deserved.

When he'd given up his relationship with Stacy, sending her back to Mark, Wilson had said House seemed to need the misery in his life to feel special. But that wasn't true. He didn't feel as though he deserved Cameron. She was young, beautiful and full of life. He wasn't so young anymore and he wasn't even _nice_. He simply didn't understand her attraction to him. It didn't add up in any scientific way possible. But that was also part of what attracted him to her. Of course, he found her stunningly attractive, as he'd told her numerous times and had even admitted to hiring her for that very reason, after all what man in their right mind _wouldn't_ be attracted to her? But aside from that, she was a puzzle, and House longed to figure her out, to unravel what mystified him about her. Every time he thought he'd grasped the answers to her, she'd do or say something that completely blindsided him and that answer was lost again.

"I need to change my medication for the panic attacks from Paroxetine to Tofranil. The damage has probably already been done though."

There was a sad sense of acceptance in her demeanour. She was just more than grateful of getting a second chance where this baby was concerned and if there were problems, she resolved to deal with them if or when they arose. For now she was just going to try and let it sink in that she had another chance to have this child. It was beyond a miracle in her eyes.

House took hold of the wheelchair handle to stop Chase from taking her back to her room. Both of them turned and looked expectantly at him, and Cuddy and Foreman's attention was also diverted to him. This was it; he would be the bearer of the news that could well break her.

"They got him."

The confusion was evident in all the faces that were turned toward him and he sighed, shifting his gaze uncomfortably to the floor.

"They got the guy who attacked you."


	13. Identity

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--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Thirteen – Identity**

The silence that suddenly pervaded the atmosphere threatened to choke her. She stared up at House, a mixture of disbelief and fear flooding her eyes as she searched his to certify he'd really just said what he had.

"They've…got him."

She repeated his words to try and let them diffuse through to her heart, which she was sure had now stopped beating and let her gaze drop to the floor, her expression unreadable. Words were lost, comfort and reassurance redundant at this stage. This was good news, but how did they tell her it would be 'alright' when it would no doubt lead to the fact that a confrontation was imminent.

"I have to see him again, don't I…?"

She said quietly, more a statement and a voice to the unspoken thoughts running through everyone's minds right now. But letting the words take form and dissolve into the air did nothing to alleviate the sense of anxiety building in her stomach. She knew she should feel relief, and she did, but until this whole state of affairs was over and the attack could be put in that 'do not reopen' box, she was haunted by him. And until she could be sure he was where he belonged, behind bars where he couldn't touch her or anyone else for a long, long time, she wouldn't sleep at night.

The way everyone, even House, lowered their eyes to the floor, avoiding hers and avoiding having to answer her rhetorical question, only served to make Cameron's tension knot more firmly. Hearing footsteps quickly making their way toward them, Cameron glanced back over her shoulder and Stacy waiting at the end of the corridor, holding back from the group, a sympathetic but professional expression on her face and she knew she'd be facing this fear growing by the second sooner than she'd anticipated.

"House…I want you to come with me."

House's eyes quickly met hers and the haunted reflection in her eyes chilled him. He was somewhat surprised at her request. When she'd told them she was pregnant, he figured he'd be out of this equation now, just by the way she'd sought Chase's gaze. Because Cameron plus baby, he figured, would equal Chase. Not him. House didn't answer her request with words, instead he silently nodded and the small smile she gave him relayed her gratitude in the same way.

It wasn't that she'd let anyone touch her or even get close for a long while yet, but hearing her asking _him_ to help her face her attacker, and seeing that look on Chase's face, a mixture of hurt and the recognition that he couldn't win when he was competing with House, these things stirred feelings within House that he'd always brushed off and been afraid of. He'd always sworn he wouldn't get in that deep after Stacy. And now Stacy was back as a physical embodiment of that silent vow he'd made to himself. She was stood right there, a few metres from the woman he now had all those feelings for.

--

The journey downtown was taken in silence. Stacy driving, House in the passenger seat and Cameron in the back, none of them tried to make conversation. They all knew what was waiting for them at their destination and it wasn't going to be easy. Cameron had to stand there and look right at her attacker, House had to watch the pain she would inevitably go through and Stacy had to watch the man she was still in love with feel that pain too, just because Cameron would feel it. He might not show it but Stacy knew him well enough to be able to see right through the indifference he hid behind, the sarcasm and the couldn't-care-less persona. She saw it clearly; he had feelings for Cameron that she'd once been on the receiving end of. She missed that but she was smart enough to realise she wasn't the one for him anymore. It didn't make it hurt any less though. And it didn't do much to ease the unwelcome jealousy she felt that Cameron was the one on House's mind and in his heart.

Pulling into the car park and finding a space close to the busy lobby, Stacy killed the engine and turned to address Cameron. She had to remind herself to treat Cameron like any other client, like any other victim of assault and to brief her accordingly.

"This is going to be hard, Allison, I'm not going to lie to you. He won't be able to see you-"

"But he'll know I'm there."

She quickly cut in, keeping her gaze fixed out of the window as she vacantly watched people bustle here and there, going about their businesses and completely absorbed in day-to-day living, criminals, cops, victims and civilians alike.

"He won't be able to see you," Stacy repeated, trying to instil some sense of reassurance she knew was futile, "House and I will be there with you behind the glass. You can see him but he can't see you. All you need to do is identify him and we're out of there."

Slowly nodding, Cameron carefully got out of the car, keeping her eyes fixed on the doors of the lobby ahead, wondering how she was going to handle this. Before they'd left, her medication had been changed and they were all well aware she was at serious risk of a panic attack, at the very least, just by being in the situation of seeing her attacker again. Already, before she'd even step foot into the building, she could feel her heart rate had increased and her stomach was doing somersaults.

--

As the men were brought in, Cameron stood as close to the door as possible, a lifeline she could use to escape the moment she'd given Stacy what she needed.

'_It's just a simple case of saying 'that's him' Cameron, stop getting so worked up.'_

She told herself firmly, her hands balled into fists by her side to stop them from shaking as she concentrated on breathing properly, deep yet hollow breaths that seemed to burn her chest with every inhalation.

The moment she saw him, his eyes boring straight through her, she pressed herself back against the door, her whole body reacting to the terror transfixing her. Her nails pressed shallow crescents into her palm, drawing blood as she tried desperately to fend off the tightness threatening to overcome her. House was on hand and she felt the firmness of his grip on her wrist somewhat comforting. Like the only solid ground she had to cling to at this point.

'Th-that's him…"

She pointed a trembling finger at the man in the middle of the room behind the glass.

House had been concentrating on gauging her reactions as the criminals were lined up for her inspection. He hadn't glanced at any of them yet but he knew they'd found the right guy as soon as he'd seen her tiny frame tense and press back against the wood of the door, her eyes seemingly unable to tear away from whom he guessed she recognised as the man who had left her this shell of the strong woman she'd once been. She'd been damaged before he'd got to her, House knew that much. She'd been through more in her life already than most would in a lifetime. Not that he'd ever wish assault on any woman, but Cameron? He could understand why she wouldn't believe in a God. She was the stuffed animal made by Grandma; she was the warmest, and most compassionate and empathetic person he'd ever met. She'd married a man when she knew he was dying, defying all laws of nature that tended toward self-preservation. She would do almost anything to help people. Yet she'd been the one left damaged and broken through it all. Everything that could hurt her apparently did, and he didn't understand any of it.

Finally looking back through the glass, his eyes fell on the man Cameron had pointed out and his usual frown disappeared, replaced by recognition flooding his senses. He'd treated the man before, sure, but whom hadn't he treated or at least come across at the hospital at some point. This wasn't just a case of 'hey, I've seen you before'. This was different. He _knew_ this man. And that made this whole situation, Cameron's pain caused by this man, suddenly so acute and taunting. Cameron hadn't been a random victim, of that House was now sure. If she had been collateral damage that he'd counted on, and not just a nameless victim, then the main objective of the trauma he'd caused wasn't just to hurt her. If he was correct, as he was quite sure he was, then Cameron had just been a convenient toy for him to play with, to heighten the torture that would ensue for not just Cameron, but mostly House, when his identity was finally revealed.

--

"I need to know why."

Her words sliced straight to the core of him, rooting him frozen to the spot. She'd stopped in the doorway, about to step out for some air. Her back to him and Stacy, her words were carefully measured to hold back the emotion that fuelled them. He watched her slowly turn to face him again, her expression guarded, but he said nothing. How could he tell her that this could all have been his fault? Like he hadn't caused her enough trouble and misery already.

"I need to know why he chose me. He knew me; he made it personal. There was something about him, in his eyes…I was familiar to him, I could feel it. A-and I need to know."

Her voice hitched and he could hear the strain of the tears choking her as she blinked a few times trying to clear her eyes. Lowering his own eyes to the floor, he could scarcely bare to look at her. Guilt. He hadn't felt that in awhile. He wasn't accustomed to really taking to heart any decisions he made, they just slid right over him, unable to touch the feelings he'd buried deep within him many, many years ago. Yet somehow, when it came to her, the walls he'd put up and painted a stark shade of grey seemed closer to the surface and susceptible to damage. This is why he didn't fall in love.

Stacy cleared her throat, offering up a sympathetic smile and approaching Cameron, who shrank back from any kind of contact and shook her head.

"I don't want you to tell me 'it's going to be fine', I just want to know why."

It was said without any malice, a quiet deliberation to her words, which served to gently convey the internal struggle she fought when contemplating the memories her attacker had left her tormented by. He didn't even have a name. She couldn't decide whether that was a blessing or a curse. All she could identify him by were his actions, the merciless shell of affliction she was now blighted with.

"His name's-"

"Adam Costello."

Both women turned their attention sharply to House and he avoided all eye contact, keeping his piercing blue gaze trained on the floor. Their understandable confusion was evident to him even without seeing their expressions.

"Do you…know him, House?"

Finally glancing up at them, the expression on Cameron's face was almost unbearable for him to witness. She was confused, yes, but what really made him sure he'd actually broken the last shred of dignity she had clung to, was the sheer despondency she now regarded him with. Disbelief he could handle. But having her look at him with that silent simmering of betrayal she felt was insufferable. Just the idea that he knew her attacker's identity was enough to send her flying from the room. He watched, helpless as usual when it came to her, as she shot out of the door, her footsteps echoing sharp and prominent down the corridor even after she'd left his sight.

Stacy was still carefully watching him, and he could almost hear the wheels in her mind turning as she assessed him in a decidedly critical manner. She was trying to work him out; he was used to that look.

"How did you know his name?"

--

She found a desolate place to hide, somewhere she could be alone and let everything that had just transpired sink in. House knew him. House knew the man who had inflicted the unspeakable, brutal scars she'd live with for the rest of her life. But what made it all the worse was…she did too. She knew him. She didn't know how House did, but hearing her attacker's name had flooded her mind. She'd not only ran from that room because of House, but also because of the assault of recollections from her past returning to haunt her. Repressed memories she'd held in her subconscious, just below the surface, never really there but always silently threatening an up-rise, were now resurfacing and slicing into her scars.

"Adam…"

She whispered, images flashing in front of her eyes as she swallowed a sob. She'd managed to fight all those images back until now. At eighteen years old she'd been afflicted with them, but it was only now, when triggered by his name, that they emerged. She'd been unable to remember anything back then, and had put it behind her. Her brother had moved on with his life too. But words were now resounding in her ears from those long-gone days that weren't ever so carefree and innocent.

"_I'll make you pay, if it's the last thing I do. This isn't the end."_

And he'd stayed true to his promise. Cameron didn't understand why these lingering reminiscences hadn't reared themselves during his attack, but she didn't have the state of mind to consider that now.

'_Ally, there's nothing we can do, let's just get outta here.'_

_The gun in her brother's hand had been the only thing she'd been able to see and the feeling of gripping fear rose within her, almost causing her to gag. She didn't know how she'd allowed herself to get dragged into this situation but she was trapped now. No choice. Adam was yelling in rage, whilst still pleading with them not to leave her. _

'_Matt! Ally! Matt, we have to help her…don't run!'_

_But their feet were hitting the ground at speed before she'd even realized they were moving. Matt was dragging her roughly by the arm leaving her no choice but to comply. Matt didn't think like her, didn't have the same insane moral compass. He was doing the only thing he could think to do. Run. Self-preservation at it's finest. But not just for himself. He was also determined to protect his own little sister._

_--_

'_She got herself into that mess, Ally. We were trying to help.'_

'_Yet we left her to die. We left Adam with no choice but to watch. I…killed her.'_

_Matt shook her, the five years he had on her seemed to stretch so much further. Rationality, when she had none. Detachment, something she'd never been able to master._

'_You're not listening to me! It was self-defense. And if we'd have stayed…'_

_He didn't need to finish that sentence. She dropped her gaze, guilt thumping through her with every beat of her heart. _

_--_

_Matt's sister had been an addict, they all knew that much. And they'd been trying to _help_. They, or rather, Adam, had sought out the dealer, made a deal of his own with him, and it had not gone according to plan. Two twenty-three years olds and an eighteen year old frightened and feigning bravery, proved no match for a stoned, psychotic 30 year old._

_They'd met outside of town, Matt still unhappy about Allison's presence but Adam had insisted – 'Nikki's the same age as Ally, it's making a point.' – and they'd waited. Adam's eighteen-year-old sister Nikki had shown up, unplanned, getting into a heated argument with her big brother as Matt had stood protectively in front of his own sister._

'_I don't need you to 'protect me', Adam!'_

_She'd shrieked, and it didn't take a genius to realize she was looking for her next fix, explaining her presence. Matt had tried to cool the argument, but his words were lost when a snarl ordering them to shut up came from behind them. Matt's stance was in front of Allison again._

'_Pretty new girl you've brought me, Nikki?'_

_The older man gestured to Allison, half-hidden by the dimly cast streetlight not quite daring to reach them. Nikki didn't reply but they knew it wasn't meant for her anyway. Matt's protective deportment shielding her had not gone unnoticed and the leer the man was aiming at her warranted Matt to raise the gun he'd kept in his pocket. He'd shakily trained it on the man, who'd seemed unfazed and just chuckled._

'_You don't even dare to look at her.'_

_In a motion quicker than any of them could follow, a gun was withdrawn from the man's coat and a shot rang out. Allison, without thinking, lunged forward to knock the gun out of her brother's hand, but as she did so, another shot rang out and a pained gasp followed it. The gun fell to the floor with an insignificant clatter and the man was long gone. _

_Nikki lay on the ground, her breathing ragged and strained as she fought for each breath, her eyes beginning to glaze and the blood pooling around her. Adam dropped to his knees, pleading with his sister to hold on. Looking up at Matt and then at Allison, fury overcame him._

'_You shot her! Y-you…I'll make you pay, if it's the last thing I do. This isn't the end.'_

_His words had followed them as they ran. He called their names, called them back, pleaded for their help. It would be alright if they got her to the hospital. But all that blood…_

_--_

'_Just forget it ever happened. Adam's the only one who'll miss her, it's not like he'll report it either. Nikki would have ended up dead sooner or later, the way she was living.'_

_Allison had cut him off, her head lifting from her hands as she settled an intense glare on her brother._

'_So it's just fine that I killed her? I shot your friend's sister and because she wasn't Mother Theresa it's all fine? What would you have done if it was me, Matt?'_

'_Don't even ask that question, Allison. Just…forget it, okay? Forget it. We'll never see Adam again, and it wasn't your fault. Self-defence. Tear yourself up over this and it'll be worse than what it is.'_

_So they'd never spoken of it again. Matt had been right, they never saw Adam again after that night, and days turned to weeks, turned to months and then years, any time her mind drifted to her teen years, she couldn't even recall the situation. A true case of successful repression. Little triggers jolted at a memory she could never quite grasp onto or identify, such as the sound of a gunshot, but the memories of that night never returned._

Until now.


	14. Angel

Hi guys!

Thank you all so much for your continual comments and feedback.  
I'm slowing down a little on the updates - I'm going to update every time I get a few more comments. Just my way of gauging if people are still reading it.

This chapter had to be one of my favourites to write, especially the first part. I love writing the description and metaphors are LOVE :P  
I'd love to hear what you think about this chapter in particular :)

But anyway, enjoy! :D

Amylia  
xxxxxx

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Fourteen – Angel**

He had to find her. Not really seeing the faces passing by him as he followed his senses out of the station, there was only one face he was seeking. And the guilt he'd managed to quell a little was once again an angry knot twisting inside his gut. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd betrayed her. That look in her eyes had almost ended him. It was almost asking 'how _could_ you?' when she'd trusted him not to break her, yet again, and his actions had only ended in her pain, yet again.

The rain had started to fall steadily as he reached the doors to the lobby, his eyes flickering across the parking lot that was now misted slightly with the turn of weather. Most people had taken shelter from the sudden rain, save a few people scurrying quickly toward their cars or into the lobby. He saw her instantly, stood perfectly motionless on the island of a grassy verge in the centre of the parking lot. He was stilled for a moment by the sight of her, a car here and there momentarily blocking his view but after a second she was there before his eyes again.

Her face was upturned; her eyes closed as the rain beat gently down onto her, soaking her through to the skin and giving her a mystical kind of glow, an aura that was heightened further by her beauty. Her blouse clung to her, emphasising the fragile contours of her body, skin glistening with every tiny movement. She reminded him of an angel, fallen from grace, face turned to the sky with some kind of silent questions to a God she didn't believe in. Why had she been thrown down to the Earth, where cruelty and pain roamed free and crushed her with every breath? Why did everything solid in her life crumble beneath her and leave her with nothing? She was an angel, perfect yet damaged.

She'd been there all along, but he was only really seeing her now that she'd gone. She'd been lost to the harsh reality of a life so oppressive it tore from her the very essence of who she'd been. She'd been sent to save him, and despite the fact he was as strong an atheist as they came, he was still sure of this. She'd fallen at his door persistently with echoes of mercy, whispers of love and a heart so pure and broken he'd always been afraid to touch. He'd stung her time and time again with the thorns he wore around his own heart, an effort to protect himself, whilst still promising not to crush her. They were words that resounded now, taunting and bitter to his mind, reverberating against every corner. Yet through it all, she'd found a way in, whether she realized it or not, and even with broken wings, she'd managed to fly close enough to touch his soul.

To the world she was just another girl, another forgotten broken heart, another train wreck trapped in the hands of fate. She stood resolute, carrying silently the burden of her secret storm, which beat down relentless and unforgiving. He needed to save her now. It was his turn to reach out and grasp the hand she desperately offered to him. All those times she'd seen him drowning and had lent herself, at whatever costs, to steady him, to breath into him that little bit of life he greatly needed, and now she needed him to do the same.

"Cameron…"

He didn't really know what to say, other than her name, as he approached cautiously, the rain falling forgotten around them. She didn't move at first, as though his voice passed over without reaching her. After a moment that might well have been an eternity, she dropped her face down from the sky and slowly opened her eyes. He could easily separate the raindrops from the teardrops sliding down her cheeks, but the raw torment he saw captured in the troubled pools of blue-green was almost his undoing.

"Cameron…I'm sorry."

His voice was low, soft, filled with regret and his own anguish. But she shook her head the slightest touch, her eyes finding his, almost-painful sincerity burning right into him.

"I know him…or at least, I _knew_ him. This is my fault, it's his revenge."

Her words made no sense to him and the glaze of distance that had settled onto her features unnerved him. Worrying that she was finally losing it, he gently but firmly took hold of her by the shoulders, her delicate frame seeming dangerously fragile in his hold.

"Cameron, none of this is your fault, you don't deserve any of it…" as he considered her words, one struck him particularly deep, "Revenge? Why would he want to hurt you?"

House was aware that perhaps the imminent conversation should take place in Stacy's presence. But he'd asked now, and he could tell by the tremble in her stance, the guarded glance toward the lobby over his shoulder and the forced gulp of air as though she needed to fill herself with the energy to speak the words, that a torrent was about to drown her.

"I killed his sister."

Physically, he remained unmoving, waiting, a neutral and calm expression masking the fact that mentally, he'd stumbled and fallen, and was flat on the floor, staring up at her in astounded confusion. She sensed this shock, looking right back at him with a patient serenity that belied how she really felt, and only instilled further in him the illustration of a fallen angel as he looked back at her.

House didn't judge. He waited; sure her words did not hold finality. Sure that there was an explanation, because it was her. Sure that she would break and reveal the emotional fortitude she so often lacked.

"Maybe we should go inside first."

The rationality of the statement shouldered its way into her conscious mind and she nodded, submissively allowing him to guide her. The comfort of his strong, warm hand between her shoulder blades, where her broken wings nestled disconsolately but stirred with his power, inspired a fire within her and a spark of strength to push forth, its presence encouraging her to hang on just a little longer. Wait out the storm. Steel herself for another day to fight through.

--

Letting the memories flood back to her and recounting them to Stacy was agonising and it was all she could do to fight tears. Repressed memories, she deliberated, were sometimes better left undisturbed. But that wall had been broken down now and she needed to let it out. She needed to release all of those pent up emotions and try to address them. The repression of them in the first place had triggered her defence mechanisms into overdrive through the years. And now they were disintegrating before her eyes. It was exhausting.

She told her story, recounted her recollections in startling detail that she didn't even realise she possessed knowledge of, but there were still unanswered questions. House knew him. That didn't fall under any category of comprehensible in her mind. He was currently outside the interview room, waiting for her tensely, uneasy in the surroundings he'd been plunged into and wishing to retreat back to more proverbial territory.

"House? You…know this guy too. You knew his name. I need you to explain how."

Stacy had her professional tone and impartial expression wonderfully perfected to a tee as she stood in the doorway of Interview Room Two, hands on her hips as she observed him patiently. He felt somewhat unnerved by it, despite, or perhaps as a result of, the familiarity he held with her. She was doing her job; she was nothing more than the lawyer. She wasn't his lover, like she once had been, and she no longer had his heart, like she once had. It was more distant, more indifferent, and he was just giving her what she needed to do her job. Not that they'd have much trouble in making sure Adam was found guilty, as it was quite clear to everyone that he was.

"I know him. Well, _knew_ him, like Cameron did."

Stacy regarded him carefully, as though trying to decipher some hidden meaning she'd uncovered by looking into his eyes again properly for the first time in a long while. Eye contact between them had been brief and disconnected since she'd been back, and before that it was so long since they'd been in the same room together that the memories faded. But she was trying to work him out again. Old habits and all that.

--

Once he was seated the opposite side of the table to Stacy, Cameron waiting outside for him patiently, and the tape was ready to record his statement, House was ready to explain.

"I…slept with his sister," he wouldn't meet her eyes, choosing to watch his fingers as they drummed a steady rhythm on the counter top, "I wasn't aware she was only eighteen at the time. And I had an encounter with her brother, with Adam. He showed up one day with her; beat the crap out of me. And I…did nothing."

Stacy looked back at him, sceptical. That didn't sound like House. And after all, she'd been in a relationship with him back then, so she knew how volatile he could be when physically confronted…

Realisation dawned on her as she stared at him, shock and a sliver of hurt fluttering across her expression momentarily before she composed herself. No wonder he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"So…you slept with Adam Costello's sister and got beaten up by her brother, yet did nothing about that?"

She indistinctly remembered the event, come to think of it. She'd been horrified when she'd first caught sight of the angry bruise on his cheek and bust lip and had wanted to know what had happened. He'd been vague with his explanation and certainly hadn't mentioned sleeping with an eighteen year old. Though, having seen pictures of the sister in question when the police had raided Adam Costello's apartment, she could safely say the girl had looked at least twenty-eight, never mind eighteen. And she didn't doubt that House would have left well alone had he been aware just how young she was.

"I didn't fight him back…I just antagonised. It was fun. I didn't care that she was his little sister, I "

The ghost of a sarcastic smile tugged at his lips and she bit back a spiteful comment. He always hid behind that infuriating derision, his eyes dancing with amusement in a situation that was far from amusing. But that was just who he was, how he kept his walls up.

It was hard for her to contemplate the idea that he'd gone and slept with someone else when she was in a relationship with him, and harder still to remain professional with the revelation materializing during, and only because of, the case it was tangled up in.

"He turned up at the hospital last year too and we treated him. He was going by the name of Joel Romano and he didn't seem to like my bedside manner, I have no idea why."

That smile again, before he turned serious.

"He'd…shown a lot of interest in Dr. Cameron whilst we were treating him, but that's not really unusual with male patients. At that point I hadn't know who he was and she didn't seem as though she knew him either. He never told her whom he really was, that I know of, even though he was very interested in…her working relationships. Before he was discharged I learned of his real identity. I hadn't know anything about Cameron's connection to this guy."

Stacy nodded thoughtfully, contemplating his words whilst trying to drown at the incessant reminder in her head that he'd cheated on her. Before she had time to really think about what she was asking, the question had slipped from her lips. She had to know, but she could still just put it down to being pertinent to the case.

"And Dr. Cameron's 'working relationships' – what were they at that point?"

House shifted uncomfortably. He remembered all too well. She'd kissed him. She'd made it extremely clear that she had feelings for him. And he'd pushed her away. But he'd found himself watching her numerous times, berated himself for letting his fascination with her puzzle become somewhat of an obsession. He didn't doubt that Joel, or Adam, had seen their chemistry and had known who Cameron was. That was why he'd attacked her. They'd both had a part to play in Cameron's ordeal. Adam blamed Cameron for his sister's death, and House had…royally rubbed him up the wrong way. True, perhaps ten years ago he shouldn't have slept with Adam's younger sister, whom he was obviously very protective of. And true, perhaps there hadn't really been any need to catheterise the man when it hadn't been strictly required. But there was no excuse for what he'd given back in return. He'd sought out Cameron, attacked her in Chase's home, and kidnapped her, putting her through inordinate amounts of trauma and casting her aside in ruins, leaving her terrified of anyone touching her again.

"Her relationships…were none of my business. I was her boss, not her therapist."

As much as he tried, there was no substance to the words he said. As good as he was at lying and as easily as he could wrap people around his finger, getting them to believe his every word, it felt like all that ability had dissipated. His eyes still fixed on the table; he could sense the clear doubt emanating from Stacy. She didn't believe his feelings had been platonic then, and she certainly didn't have any doubt of it now. But she stayed quiet, curtly thanking him for his help and stopping the tape.

"I think you'd best go now."

She said as she stood up and calmly walked to the door, pulling it open and avoiding his gaze. She was refusing to let him get to her. But he knew that learning of his unfaithfulness all those years ago had struck a chord, and he was surprised when he felt the stirrings of a little guilt.

Nodding brusquely, he grabbed his cane and stood, limping heavily out of the room without saying a word to her. Cameron rose to her feet with a grace he was sure she wasn't even aware she held, and offered a slight smile before he reached her side. Looking up at him, she sighed a little.

"Can we get out of here now?"


	15. Complicated

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

Chapter Fifteen – Complicated

The weeks that passed went by in a blur and quickly turned into months. Cameron had to testify and make another statement, neither being particularly pleasant experiences. But she made it through, and after a final check at the hospital, she was ready to go back home, to try to start living her life again and pick up the pieces of normalcy.

It was hard to believe that it had been almost six months since the attack. She was well in the throes of pregnancy and felt mostly at ease due to the fact the hospital were extremely attentive regarding her routine checks. Although despite that, they had warned her that complications she could have suffered due to the traumatic ordeal she'd endured had the possibility of only presenting once the baby was born. She'd accepted this harsh prospect and resolved to put as far to the back of her mind as possible.

She'd managed to convince Cuddy that she was ready to return to work, though neither Chase nor House were entirely convinced she should return before the birth.

"Oh come _on_, I'll be forced to go on maternity leave before long. I _need_ to be back at work. They've discharged me now and I'm going to be standing on my own two feet again. Stop _depriving _me. It won't help."

House had smirked and shook his head. She'd been one step away from stamping her foot and pouting like a five year old _deprived_ of Barbie dolls. He couldn't deny that he'd be glad to have her back, pottering around the office, making him coffee and sorting his mail. What Chase made could hardly be classed as coffee, as House made a point of stressing every time he was handed a cup. And he'd actually had to do paperwork himself since she'd been absent. It was an unusual and somewhat unwelcome concept and took far too long in his opinion. But over six months he'd managed to pass a majority of it off onto Chase and Wilson, which he was rather pleased at himself for accomplishing.

Now she was coming back, and though it was a welcome development, there was still worry that she was pushing herself too far. The OBGYN and the Attending had signed her off as able to go home, yet he still worried. He'd come to realise over the months that where she was concerned, worry was starting to come as part of the deal. He worried when he saw that flash of momentary fear in her eyes if Chase got too close; he worried at the slightest expression of pain on her face; he worried at the thought of her going home to an empty house without anyone to protect her. It wasn't sudden, apart from in his mind,

It was around the time that she was released from the hospital full-time care that Cameron knew she had to straighten it all out with Chase. She'd been thinking a lot about her feelings for him over the months. He was always there for her, had visited her every day; he wasn't afraid of telling her that he loved her, even when she couldn't say it back; and he was her child's father. That factored a lot into her concerns. He was her child's father and he desperately wanted them to work. He'd made it clear that he wasn't pushing her into the relationship, and acknowledged how difficult it was for her to even have someone stand a little too close, never mind anything else. But he didn't care. He still wanted to be with her and he wanted the baby too.

But then there was House. She felt safe with him near, even after everything that had happened. He wasn't an exception when it came to her fear of being touched, but that didn't bother him either. He cared about her, that much was obvious. But it wasn't his baby she was carrying. Technically, she had more of a tie to Chase. But she didn't _love_ Chase.

--

"Robert, we need to talk."

She caught up to him in the cafeteria and he smiled warily, paying for his lunch and waiting for her before they found a seat. He assessed her expression and tried to read her body language as they slipped into their seats but that wasn't doing anything to calm his worries. She sounded serious, almost apologetic. And that didn't bode well, in his opinion. He pushed out the little voice in his head telling him he knew what was coming.

"I've…been thinking. About us."

He broke eye contact and pushed the fries around on his plate. The sinking feeling in his stomach made him dread the words on her lips. He could almost feel her slipping through his fingers, and he couldn't catch her.

"You don't want a relationship, I know that. I know I can't touch you and I accept it. But you're having my baby, Allison. Please don't push me out completely."

She stayed silent, twisting her fingers around the pendant she wore. It wasn't only Chase who had the sinking feeling in his stomach. She hated to hurt him, to push him further out of her life, but she couldn't hang around letting him think there was a remote chance they'd suddenly have a happily ever after once their child was born.

"That's exactly why I'm doing this now. I…I don't want to give you false hopes. What we had, it was uncomplicated at first, like it was meant to be. It was just sex. And then it became a one-sided relationship. I didn't want it and I made that clear. This baby…yes, it's yours, but I'm not. I never have been. And just because I'm having your baby…it doesn't change how I feel about you. I don't love you; I never said I did. And…I can't."

Her words were soft but the sharp edges of what she was saying cut into him. She was killing every kind of hope he had hung on to. And he knew it was better that way, she was doing the right thing, the kinder thing, by cutting this off before their baby came into the world to complicate it all even further. That still didn't lessen the impact, the finality of it all.

"I'm not saying you can't have a part in the baby's life. I just don't want you to be a part of my life in the way you want to."

He wouldn't cry. Not here, not for everyone to witness the pathetic excuse of a man that he'd become. He'd sat by her bed for weeks when she'd been in a coma after the abduction. He'd stuck by her throughout the pregnancy so far, and he'd hoped she would change her mind about what part she wanted him to play in her life. He'd known she would never refuse him contact with his child, but he'd desperately hoped she'd want him in _her_ life, as more than just the father of her son or daughter.

"Is this the end of it then? You're really breaking it off? You really want to go this alone? Allison, don't push me out. I care-"

"I _know_ you care. You tell me enough times!" She rose out of her seat, but quickly calmed and sat back down as people turned to stare.

"Chase, I _know_ you care about me, and I appreciate it. I'm grateful for all the things you've done for me these last few months. But…I'm not carrying on letting you think there might be some kind of hope we'll end up together. It's cruel and I couldn't do that to you."

He slowly nodded, realizing that there was no way he could change her mind, and he knew it wouldn't be right to try to. She was doing the right thing, in his heart he knew it, he just wished it didn't hurt so damn much. He was in love with her. She knew it; hell, pretty much the whole hospital knew it. But she didn't feel the same, as much as he was reluctant to acknowledge it; he knew she'd never had those feelings for him. She'd never lied to him. She'd felt no kind of love for him and she'd never feigned any. There was only one man in the hospital she regarded with what he could call love, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, because he'd treated her so badly yet she still loved him. And no matter how he'd tried, she had never had those kinds of feelings for him.

"Do you love him?"

His voice was soft, gentle, and he couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu. They'd had a similar conversation when she'd first told him she was pregnant, before a man from her past had put them through hell.

She hesitated, a hand absently rubbing the nicely developing bump of her stomach. At thirty-two weeks the bump was prominent, especially considering her petite frame. From behind it was almost impossible to tell she was with child, but from the front she looked ready to burst, as House had so kindly pointed out quite a few times. That was one of his reasons for arguing against her return to work.

"_Don't want her dropping the kid during a differential diagnosis."_

It had been so blunt she'd almost laughed. His approach had never been sensitive and she hadn't expected anything more from him. Under that toughened exterior, she knew House cared about her though. He just wasn't as comfortable showing it as Chase was.

Snapping back to reality as Chase said her name for the third time, the mist cleared in her mind and she sighed, shaking her head as he repeated his question, searching his eyes for the truth.

"Do you love him?"

"Chase, I don't want to talk about this-" and almost as if it had heard its cue, her pager went off and she silently thanked it reverently, "I've got to go. I'll see you later."

And with that she carefully stood and made her way out of the cafeteria, still feeling awkward with the weight she was carrying around. She'd always been in good shape, small-boned and delicate. So the strange sensation of adjusting to carrying a considerable weight was definitely a strain. A hand on her back to try and lessen the tension there, she sought out the elevator for the short journey to the floor above.

--

As the elevator doors rolled open, familiar ice-blue eyes settled on her and she wasn't sure whether she was going to appreciate his presence. Stepping inside, she offered a polite smile and pushed the button, settling her hand on her stomach and catching the quick flicker of his gaze on her bump. She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and he had that look in his eyes, giving away the fact that many thoughts were tumbling around his mind right now. She wished that just for a moment she could read those thoughts; maybe obtain an insight into the words he always held back. Breaking the gaze, she directed her eyes to a more neutral, easier position on the elevator doors.

"We have a new patient?"

That seemed to snap him back to reality and he gave her a brief nod.

"Forty-year old pregnant woman, admitted with severe nausea and vomiting but since she came in she's complained of chest pains, shortness of breath and developed rashes across most of her body. She's got PIH and mild tachycardia but that's under control."

Cameron regarded him critically, wondering why he hadn't spurned at this case, as it seemed like what he would consider 'boring' and would usually just brush off in favour of some more exotic condition presented to him.

"Are you just wanting to surround yourself with pregnant women?"

She asked, the humour evident in her tone as she took the file from his hand and gave it a once over. House scowled at her and she understood clearly that he wasn't too impressed at having this case either.

"Cuddy made me take it. Said she'd triple my clinic hours if I didn't. Patient's some friend of the family or whatever. Still doesn't make it interesting."

A glint in his eyes made Cameron wary and she knew he was about to suggest something less-than-legal, so she shook her head before he even had a chance to voice his idea.

"Whatever it is, I'm not doing it. Go entertain yourself with your immoral plan yourself, but don't drag me into it."

He looked disappointed and mumbled something about digging up dirt on Cuddy and Cameron sighed in weary tedium at his childish games to wind their boss up.

"Well, you go take the full patient history; she can make me take the case but she can't make me see the woman."

Again, she sighed and rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened. Walking in comfortable silence toward the patient's room at the other end of the corridor, her thoughts wandered away from the patient for a minute and instead drifted back to House. Not that it was an unusual occurrence. But since her talk with Chase, she knew she had to talk with House too. She still loved him. She knew part of her always would, and the fact that she couldn't even let herself get close enough for him to touch her – if he'd ever even take that initiative – made it harder still for her to decide what to do.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

As they neared the room, Cameron pushed the thoughts of her mess of a love life out of her mind and she had to hold back her laugh as she saw the occupants of the room. Not only was there a heavily pregnant older woman in the bed, but sat beside her was a teenage girl, around eighteen years old, who was also pregnant.

"You must have died and gone to heaven."

Cameron commented quietly, fighting the urge to let the amusement escape her too obviously. House shot her a glare as they entered the room and she barely managed to compose herself and regain her professionalism before the two women in the room turned to them expectantly.

"Mrs. Benson, I'm Dr. Cameron-"

"And I'm just here because I have a fetish for knocked-up women."

House chimed in and Cameron threw him a disapproving glare as the patient and her daughter stared at him in confusion before looking to Cameron for some kind of explanation. She shook her head and politely advised them to ignore him, before continuing with what she had been saying.

"I'm going to be your physician, and in order for us to come up with a rational diagnosis we'll need to take into account all the factors."

She proceeded to take a full medical history from Claire Benson and it was right around that time House decided to make his escape. Seeing that the teenage girl was watching him intently, somewhat intrigued by his presence, he put his finger to his lips and exaggerated a "don't tell!" gesture before limping toward the door as quietly as possible. The girl cracked a smile and shook her head, decidedly entertained by his immaturity. But before House left, he saw the flicker of amusement in her expression die away and instead turn to one of pain. She grasped the arms of the comfy chair she sat in and looked up at Cameron, as though for reassurance, as a gasp passed her lips. Claire's eyes grew wide and she almost shot out of the bed as she saw her daughter's expression.

"Cassie, what's wrong?!"

"Dr…Dr. Cameron…"

Cameron turned quickly to the girl and House made no move from the doorway, watching vacantly as he assessed the situation.

"I-I'm bleeding."

The teenager looked dazed and her mother called her name again. Cameron looked over at House before quickly addressing the situation and pressing the code button. It was barely a minute before nurses rushed in and Cassie was helped quickly into a wheelchair before being whisked out of the room. The focus had shifted from mother to daughter in a matter of moments and Cameron could tell this would be one hell of a case…or cases, rather.

--

"Well, this has to be a first."

Chase and Foreman entered the office a few minutes after House and Cameron, and seated themselves around the table as House wrote up the two patients' symptoms on opposite sides of the board.

"No, not really. If they've both got symptoms in common, it could be an infection. That's not new."

Even with the added 'excitement' of the additional case, House was still not enthralled with the case. Cameron rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, her hands resting on her own pregnant belly as she considered the patients.

"The mother didn't mention any bleeding, which would have been pretty high on the concern scale, if you ask me."

"And did I?"

"What?"

"Ask you."

It took her a moment for the impact of his slicing remark to reach her and she sighed, refusing the give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt, but at the same time too tired to retaliate. Chase decided to jump in then and spare them all from the uncomfortable tension settling over them at House's words.

"What about an Enterovirus? Echovirus would explain the rashes, shortness of breath and nausea."

Foreman's brow furrowed in contemplation as he shook his head.

"But that won't explain the chest pains. It could be Bornholm disease though. Caused by Enteroviruses but it accounts for the chest pain too."

"Maybe it's not an infection. They're both pregnant – maybe an autoimmune disorder. Their immune systems are compromised so it could be a perfect time for lupus to present."

"Oh, you! Go to the naughty corner – why is it that every diagnosis seems to require a consideration of lupus? It's not lupus. Go do a blood work and ECG. See what's going on with her heart and test for broad-screen viruses so we can narrow it down. And maybe while you're at it you can skip ahead and just treat for lupus now so we can move on to a diagnosis that it actually might be."

--

"Where are you running off to so fast? I'm sure the labs aren't really _that_ urgent. And didn't your mom ever tell you it's not nice to make a cripple run after you?"

His cane wedged the elevator open and he staggered in carefully, hitting the button with the handle of the cane and watching as the doors closed soundlessly in front of them.

"Got an ultrasound appointment," she informed him curtly, ignoring the rest of his rant, "may have to be admitted sooner than I would normally because of…everything that happened."

He hesitated before giving her a small, curt nod. He didn't want to drag up that part of the past.

"Well that's probably lucky, wouldn't want to be popping it out in the Clinic now would you? Or even worse, in front of the preggo patients we're dealing with right now."

She suppressed the urge to laugh at his apparent fondness for dysphemisms and instead chose to shake her head. There weren't many words spoken between them lately that could be categorised as a conversation. If they weren't talking about a patient, they weren't talking. It stung a little to acknowledge the distance between them that had only strengthened in the last few months. It seemed as though the progress of her pregnancy only served to aid the progress of their deterioration. And it made her identify the expiation she felt at being in this situation, simply because Chase was involved.

A twinge in her stomach caused her to frown a little and glance down as she drummed her fingers on her heavily pregnant belly. It didn't so much hurt; it was just…unusual. She hadn't been in the position of impending motherhood before and she was no gynaecologist, but that twinge – she felt it again, a lot stronger this time - she was sure, felt almost like…

"Shit…" her eyes travelled up to meet House's once again and the alarm reflected back to her was clear, "House, I think I'm going to be 'popping it out' sooner than we thought…"

The next thing she knew, the elevator doors were rolling open and House was gripping her arms, and as quickly as he could – considering he'd left his cane abandoned in the elevator – was guiding her towards the nearest wheelchair and sitting her firmly in it, much to the annoyance of the nurse who had been pushing it.

"Back off Brenda," he warned the nurse who, familiar with House's unorthodox and offensive approach, shuffled away indignantly.

"How far along are you, Cameron?"

He asked, keeping all concern from his voice and staying entirely impassive and professional, if such a word could ever be applied to Dr. Gregory House.

"Thirty-two weeks. This can't be it, not yet, it's far too soon-"

A bolt of pain surged through her and took her breath away. With a sharp intake of breath, she looked down at her bump. Even before she saw it, she could feel what was happening. And she couldn't help but sense the irony of it all.

"House…I'm bleeding."

House followed her gaze.

"Well I don't think the kid much cares if you _want_ it out yet."

With that, he went to retrieve his cane just before the elevator doors shut, and returned to Cameron, rounding the chair and pushing her down the corridor toward the ultrasound suite at surprising speed. This was perhaps the best place she could be if the baby was going to be making an appearance sooner rather than later.

--

"Well, you've go great timing, Dr. Cameron. We need to schedule an emergency c-section – if you look here you can see the beginnings of placental abruption. The baby's heart rate is a little elevated but if we get you to surgery now we can minimise the distress."

The woman quickly pressed a button on the wall to her right and summoned two doctors. Cameron didn't recognize them, and she could almost feel her blood pressure rising.

"You'd been expecting this though, I'm not going to lose this baby now, please just tell me-"

"We'd been hoping this wouldn't happen, obviously, but yes we were prepared for complications. Thirty-two weeks is…early. But we're going to do our best, Dr. Cameron. And babies are born much more premature and still survive. Rachel, could you get Dr. Cameron prepped for surgery."

House could do nothing but watch and he felt as though he was being sucked back into the destruction of all those months ago. They both knew the risks of placental abruption. She could go into shock in the OR, and if she went into DIC…well, he couldn't even begin to consider that. But as the diagnosis rolled around his head, something clicked. Placental abruption. He didn't know why he hadn't considered it earlier. Maybe it had been too obvious. But right now, that patient was on the backburner. If it came to choosing whether Cameron or the patient was treated, he didn't even have to think twice.

"Do you want me to get Chase?"

He asked slowly, unable to meet her eyes as Rachel helped her into the wheelchair again. She looked up at him nevertheless and shook her head.

"I talked to him earlier. I told him I didn't want to be with him and he's accepted that. House…stay with me. I can't do this alone."

She reached out and grasped his hand as Rachel went to wheel her out of the door. House looked at her small hand grasping his and met her eyes for a moment, before tearing his gaze away and trying to ignore the knot forming in his stomach. She needed him…and he couldn't do it. She released her gentle grip of his hand and swallowed the lump in her throat. Nodding in silent acceptance of his rejection, she turned away and allowed Rachel to wheel her out of the doors.


	16. Connections

Hey guys!

Well, your reactions to House's rejection last chapter didn't half make me smile. I love how into it you get lol.  
This might make you a little happier. But I tend to have ANgsty!House because I don't believe in canon he'd get instantly in touch with his feelings if something like this situation did happen. I'm trying to keep him, in my opinion, true to the canon character.

Hope you like!  
Feedback is love :D

Peace & Cheers  
Amy  
xxx

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Sixteen – Connections**

"I need to push! Oh God…"

It felt like a whirlwind, She'd gone from quietly accepting of the diagnosis with nervous anxiety twisting in her stomach as she pleaded silently for her baby to be alright, to gasping in breathless shock when electric currents of pain ricocheted through her abdomen. The nurses with her had instantly alerted theatre and they moved her from wheelchair to bed in record time.

Tears were streaming down her face and she was doing her best not to scream. The pain had increased tenfold in less than ten minutes. The OR was prepped and she was currently being rushed down the corridor as she gripped the metals sides of the bed until her knuckles whitened with the pressure. Her toes curled into the covers and she did her best not to push, under the instruction of the specialist surgeon currently running beside the gurney.

"Dr. Cameron, I need you to hold out and fight the urge to push."

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?!"

She yelled back, her face red and sweat matting her hair to her forehead. One of the nurses tried to soothe her but the calming words were lost on Cameron and she cried out as another contraction rippled right through her. The foetal heart monitor attached alongside her machine bleeped frantically and she knew exactly what it meant, as much as the other doctors tried to keep their loaded glances to each other as subtle as possible. The baby was in distress, and if they didn't get it out soon, there was a good chance it wouldn't just be life-or-death for the baby, but Cameron too. The chances of a haemorrhage were worryingly increasing with every minute the baby was in distress.

She was close to passing out due to hyperventilation and she could easily relate it to a panic attack, with the added pain of childbirth. Unable to fight the ever-increasing gripping necessity to push, she let out a strangled cry and gave in to the burning sensation, pushing hard. Instead of relieving some of the pain though, it just strengthened it and Cameron was sure she was dying. The wave that had built quickly was subsiding just as fast and she had a moment to catch her breath. Sucking in air until she felt her lungs might just burst, she could feel the wave building again and readied herself for the sharp edge of agony as it began. Her arms felt weak as she tried to hold herself up and after a few moments she collapsed back against the pillow, trembling with the effort of holding it all together. They couldn't administer too many drugs until they got the baby out safely, so she was on gas and air, snatching the mask from one of the nurses and pressing it over her nose and mouth. The heady feeling it delivered was a joy. For an instant the pain was once again relieved and she sucked more from the mask desperately.

As they crashed through the door to the OR, everyone was ready and waiting for her. She welcomed the sedative they gave her like it was the greatest gift in the world. She had to be awake during the procedure so they could monitor all her vitals, but at least she got the drugs was all she was thinking right now.

The numbness was, at first, just a pleasant and welcome relief, but the sensation was a strange one when she felt no pain whatsoever and instead it felt almost like a washing machine had taken the place of her stomach. She watched for any sign of development from behind the screen they had put up, preventing her from seeing the operation, and she didn't realise she was holding her breath until her chest started to burn with oxygen deprivation. Letting out a shaky breath, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the tiny baby being lifted above the screen.

She held her breath again, straining to hear for any sounds of a screaming baby. She couldn't move. It was as if her world had come to a standstill as she desperately and silently pleaded that her baby would live. Just one cry was all she needed to hear.

"They're taking the baby to the NICU, Dr. Cameron."

A young woman stood beside her and Cameron guessed her to be no older than early to mid-twenties. Intern, she surmised. And she didn't want to hear that her baby was going to NICU, she just wanted to hear the child would live.

"I want to see my baby…"

Cameron demanded groggily, the drugs kicking in immediately as they administered them. She could hear her own heartbeat, her skin felt too sensitive, her senses were acutely heightened. And then black.

--

"Someone should be in there with her."

Chase spoke the words that were racing through House's mind, but instead of agreeing and stepping up, taking the high road and swallowing his pride, he just scowled at Chase. They were stood outside the OR, along with Cuddy and Foreman. Chase was pacing back and forth, driving the rest of them crazy.

"Well she doesn't want _you_ in there, so get over it."

House snapped and Chase paused mid-pace, turning to face his boss slowly. Cuddy glanced sharply at him, almost in warning, and Foreman just shook his head. But Chase didn't heed any of their unspoken warning and his voice was sharp and, even though he sounded controlled, he was far from it.

"No, she wants _you_ in there, but you don't have the balls to take that step and do something that isn't entirely selfish."

Chase's eyes flashed and as much as House had the ever-ready dangerously sharp snark right on the tip of his tongue, instead he just looked down at the floor with a sulleness that wouldn't be lost on a pouting child who knew he was wrong but refused to admit so. Chase was not deterred, continuing on as his fury escalated.

"And I can't actually believe you just told me to 'get over it' – you mean, like you've been telling Cameron since Day One? She laid her heart on the line for you. She pushed everyone else away, couldn't bring herself to love anyone else because she's so God-damn caught up on you. She couldn't even let me in, and at least I'd love her back! She's in there giving birth to _my_ child, wanting _you_, and you're telling me to _'get over it'_. She's having our baby, yet she still wants you in there with her, to comfort her ironically enough, even after everything she's been through, and you're still stood out here snarking at us because you're too fucking proud to take the first step. Ye Gods, you might end up finding happiness. Somehow, I think you've reached a new low, House, if that's even possible."

And with that, Chase stormed off down the corridor, leaving three shocked doctors staring after him. Foreman averted his gaze to the floor, silently but distinctly agreeing with Chase's defamations. Cuddy dropped her head into her hands, a long sigh passing her lips, before she finally looked up at House.

"She just needs someone to hold her hand through this, House, how hard can that be? Yet you're pushing her out, again. Sometimes, I wonder why she hasn't taken the initiative yet and beaten you to death with your own cane. What's she going to have to do before you admit you have feelings for her? She's reached out enough times and got burned every single time. She's going to be dead before you realize what you're throwing away.

Cuddy stood and followed Chase's lead down the corridor. She didn't want the younger doctor doing anything stupid. Right now, the hospital couldn't be dealing with yet another lawsuit.

--

"I was wrong."

She couldn't hear him; she was unconscious. Part of him realized that was the only reason he felt as though he could finally open up, at least a little, and he rebuked himself for it.

She was lying there in the bed, as she had done too much in the last six months, and he had taken hold of her hand. When she had released his hand earlier, before she'd been taken to the OR, he'd felt the loss keenly. And he'd felt the torment in her eyes, the pure hurt and rejection she felt at his response to her, stab right through the walls he'd managed to maintain, hitting right at his centre and leaving him reeling.

She was unconscious now, thanks to the heavy sedatives, and his eyes flickered across her face. The scars were barely visible now, but he'd grown so used to them, having memorised every tiny freckle gracing her features, that he barely noticed them anyway. Brunette hair fanned out around her, an almost-peaceful expression settled on her face, and he lovingly reached up, stroking a soft curl resting on her temple, before cupping her cheek in a gentle yet calloused hand.

She was like fine porcelain that he was sure would shatter beneath his touch at any second if he didn't handle her with the greatest care. He knew that if she were awake, he wouldn't be able to get this close. She'd have backed off the moment he was within touch-proximity, never mind actually getting as far as his fingers on her skin.

But she looked at peace for the first time in too long, and he wanted the moment to last forever.

"I was wrong," he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I pushed you away when all I wanted was to hold you closer than anything. I was wrong, but it doesn't mean I can make it right. That doesn't mean I don't care. It might seem that way, but I can tell you can see it, when you look into my eyes the way you do. And you just wish I could say it. This is as close as I'll come…I love you."

--

When she started to come to, the steady beep of the machines gently roused her back to consciousness. It took a moment for it all to fall into place and as her eyes fell upon House, déjà vu hit her like a blow to the stomach. Looking down, she realized that it wasn't a metaphorical pain. Her stomach was bandaged and her bump had dramatically decreased. Silently wondering how long she'd been out of it, her gaze returned to House. She'd dreamed of him, she remembered it as though it were real. He'd told her he loved her. He'd tenderly pressed his lips to her head and stroked her cheek with a touch as soft as a ghost's kiss.

He looked just as intense when he was asleep as he did when he was awake. The handsome lines she'd memorised gracing his face, his skin reminding her of a map, showing the world that his heart had been through more than he'd ever let on, and the way his lips pursed slightly. She noticed all of these things in the near-silence of the room, the quiet contemplation only agitated by the instinct in her that reminded her of the baby she'd given birth to. Or rather, that they'd taken from her. Bubbles of tension began to rise within her and she shifted gingerly in the bed, wondering if she had a chance of making out of the room and toward the NICU before House woke up and stopped her.

Almost on cue, House stirred in the uncomfortable excuse of a comfy chair, and his eyes instantly met hers. Neither of them moved for a moment, some kind of unspoken, unseen electricity charging the room with tension. It was as if both had the feeling something had changed between them, yet on the surface stayed exactly the same as it was and always would be.

"Hi."

His voice was low, raw and strained with sleep. The mist of sleep drowsiness was lifting quickly though and he sat up straight. She wearily rubbed her eyes, reminding him somewhat of a child, and looked carefully at him, as though trying to figure something out.

"How long have I been-?"

"Not that long; two or three hours. You needed the rest, you were exhausted."

She regarded him for a moment. She was trying to read him, which was damn near impossible on the best of days, but she was anxious to know what had happened to her baby in the 'two or three hours' she'd been out-of-it.

"I'll take you to NICU, come on."

He hauled himself to his feet and with some help from the bed, trying not to wince as his leg protested at the sudden jolt of movement, helped Cameron slide out of the covers and into the wheelchair waiting for her. She accepted the help gratefully, the small, tight smile she offered him being as much as she could give right now, with her mind running through all sorts of scenarios right now. Her baby could be alive; her baby could be dead. He or she could be brain damaged from the deprivation of oxygen during the placental abruption, not to mention the trauma from the assault; but then again, there could be no complications and she could have a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby.

--

"Dr. Cameron, I'm assuming you're here to see your baby."

The kindly NICU nurse with the warm smile and gentle eyes ushered them toward one of the larger incubators at the far end and quietly prepared Cameron for how fragile and tiny her child would seem, surrounded by all the machines and wires. But Cameron didn't even hear her comforting words as her gaze fell upon the incubator ahead, "Cameron" stated clearly on the chart it held. The regular hum of the machines breathing for her baby were the only thing resonating through her mind and her eyes pricked with sharp tears that she fought back. She hadn't even seen the baby yet, and still the emotional pressure was weighing heavily. House pushed the wheelchair slowly, and she couldn't decide whether she wanted to thank him for his careful concern, obviously trying to let her adjust to the sight ahead slowly, or just let the scream of painful emotion bubbling inside her erupt in his direction, make him the scapegoat for the helplessness she was afflicted with.

As they approached the incubator, House couldn't hold back his inherent medical curiosity and picked up the chart, flipping through it slowly. Cameron didn't even seem to register it, her eyes glued to the tiny baby, smaller than an average child's doll, overshadowed by the wires snaking everywhere.

"Dr. Cameron…you have a beautiful little girl."

The nurse softly told her, a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she left her alone to take it all in. House watched the range of emotions cross Cameron's face and yet again a string in his heart snapped, jolting ripples of poignant anguish through him until he found himself stood beside her once again, his hand reaching down of its own accord to grasp hers. He was somewhat surprised, but at the same time relieved, when he felt the slight pressure of her small hand grasping back. She looked up at him with eyes that haunted him, torment clearly residing behind them, but he also saw a glimmer of hope and he wasn't sure which of these sentiments cut him deeper.

"You have a beautiful little girl."

He said quietly, looking down into her eyes, repeating the words of the nurse. She managed a weak attempt at a smile, knowing that it was qite a big thing for him to say such a thing, before her attention fell back on her daughter. She was premature, had a machine breathing for her, and it was too early to tell if she'd suffered any long-term brain damage as a result of the birth and the trauma earlier in Cameron's pregnancy. But she was still fighting. There was a flicker of hope that her daughter would pull through, continue fighting just like her mother had.

Managing to roll a little closer, Cameron reached up and carefully slid her hand into the hole on the side of the incubator. The moment her fingers made contact with her daughter's delicate skin, still red and with her eyes tightly shut, hot tears fell from Cameron's eyes and burnt trails down her cheeks as she silently cried, tears of both happiness and pain. Her daughter was alive, after all the torment and devastation of the past year of her life; there was some kind of hope on the horizon.

--

"Do you wanna…?"

Cameron looked expectantly up at House and he understood her question clearly. Faltering, he looked from Cameron to the baby and back. He felt some kind of inexplicable sense of magnetism drawing him to the child and he didn't know why. Whether it was solely to do with the fact that the child was a part of Cameron and with her the magnetism was a given, or if it was to do with the fact that deep down, he wished he'd been the one who could stand beside Cameron, look down at the baby and feel a sense of love and tenderness by being able to call the child his too. But it was Chase who had been a part of the tiny miracle's creation, not him. Yet again in his life, he found himself resenting his choices, resenting that he'd pushed Cameron away so many times that she'd fallen into the arms of the man who's child he was no looking down at.

Nevertheless, he found his hand gently pushing into the incubator, baby-soft skin beneath his fingertips. It was at his touch that the baby, despite the wires and machines, wriggled her fingers and with a miniature hand, wrapped them around House's. Cameron was watching silently, more tears streaming like a river down her cheeks. The sight before her touched her heart. This was all she'd ever wanted. Stepping out of the reality of it all, just the image of her child grasping House's hand, as though identifying the man who _should_ have been her father, it was easy to play make-believe, in a world where it was all as simple as a still-life picture. And the picture before her would forever be in her memory.


	17. Friends

Just a note to say:

Thanks for the reviews! They make my day, I love reading them :)  
New chapter, and I can actually say I own a character :D  
Danny is a cross between Ben Affleck and Jensen Ackles...basically: /showimage/2/0/0/106387/Jensen-Ackles-and-Ben-Affleck.jpeg.  
Yeah, that's Danny :)

Peace & Cheers  
Amy  
xxx

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Seventeen – Friends**

Days seemed like years in her mind. She was counting by the hour, the torturous clicking of the clock on the far wall echoing in her mind. She hadn't left the NICU in five days. The one thing that kept her there, the tiny ray of hope cocooned within the plastic and wires before her, was doing well. She'd actually lost so much faith she'd gained some. She'd ended up praying; pleading to a God she thought to be unfair and eternally absent. But her little girl was fighting. The baby who had proven to be a miracle more than once already in her short existence was keeping her grounded, keeping her holding on to the smallest shreds of hope she could find.

She and Chase had sat in silence together just watching their child quite a few times in the past five days. It was almost as if either or both were expecting some kind of development to unfold before their eyes. But neither was entirely sure they wanted that, because at this point, developments could only really be bad news. Slow and steady, that's what the nurses had said. They wanted no awe-inspiring advances just yet; too much stress for her tiny body to handle

"I'm sorry."

Right now, she was sitting in the same chair she'd sat in for almost a week, keeping vigil over her daughter; Chase sat beside her. It was the first time she'd actually spoken coherent words to him in five days and his gaze carefully levelled on her, though she refrained from meeting it, the moment her voice broke their silence.

She dared not give the baby a name yet, fearing that the moment she made that connection, the infant would be cruelly snatched away from her. So she kept the name inside the confines of her mind, softly repeating it over and over but never daring to let it pass her lips. Too much had happened for her to brush away those silly insecurities, because in her head they were valid fears.

"What are you sorry for?"

He was trying to keep his voice low, gentle. He was trying to ease her fragile mind-set with the tone of his words. But he didn't get through deep enough anymore for it to impact on her one way or another. He conceded the harsh veracity of it with somewhat of a solemn acceptance and quickly moved on. What use was there in dwelling on what he had no power over? But, that said, why was he dwelling on her if that premise applied? Because he loved her. And he loved their daughter. It didn't matter if any of those feelings were reciprocated, because there was no rationality for it. The baby, yes, there was a level of rationality, because she was a tiny part of him, but Cameron…she technically had no hold on him. Apart from the fact that she did, on his heart.

"I…couldn't save her. I couldn't protect her. What kind of pathetic excuse for a mother am I when I can't even protect a life that's inside me? And now she's fighting on her own, I can't do anything…I feel so goddamn helpless, all I'm doing is sitting here watching her-"

Her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes as she tried to control the mixture of fury at her own powerlessness, the fear for her child's life and the agony of the whole situation. Her small hands gripped the arms of the chair and her knuckles whitened. His eyes dropped to them and he carefully, cautiously reached forward, placing his hand over hers to calm her. This was the first contact they'd had in a long while, and he couldn't describe the feelings that coursed through him when she didn't flinch. For the first time he could touch her without a bolt of panic streaking across her expression and settling in her eyes.

Her gaze fell on his hand over hers and she didn't quite know what to do. The comfort was there; she could feel it and a part of her welcomed it, needed to embrace whatever kind of sustenance she could pull from it. But that other part, ever present in her subconscious and shouldering its way into her sentient mind, whispered that she could find no comfort from him. He tried, and he desperately wanted to help her, _needed_ to help her. But he couldn't, because there were some walls he couldn't get past, and neither could she.

"None of this is your fault, Allison, you can't blame yourself. There was nothing anyone could have done. They said after…everything, that this could happen. They were prepared…and you are _not_ a bad mother. You've sat here for five days straight; none of us have been able to shift you. That constitutes as the opposite of a bad mother. And she knows," he shifted his gaze from her face to the baby before seeking her eyes again, "She knows you love her. She's fighting because she knows you love her. We love her."

Of its own accord, his hand lifted from hers and gently cupped her cheek. She made the slightest movement away from him and had he not recognised that familiar spark of momentary alarm echoed back into his eyes, he would have missed it. Fumbling for a muttered 'sorry', he slowly rose from his seat and grabbed his coat.

"I'm here if you need me. Don't ever think that this reflects on you, Allison, all right? Because you're going to be the best mom she could wish for. She's going to pull through this, and so are you."

And with that, he quietly left. Cameron acknowledged the sudden return of the pervading near-silence – save for the persistency of the numerous machines on the unit – and couldn't decide whether it created a lull of peace within her, or if the suddenness of it's existence was the cause of the anxiety twisting in her stomach.

--

Her mind was elsewhere, wandering in scenes she couldn't quite place. So when she emerged from the reverie she'd gotten herself lost in, it startled her to find him sat beside her.

"House."

It was as though by saying his name, it ensured that he was real, secured in her own insecure mind that he was real. Because right now, she could never tell what was real and what she was making up. Yet she'd become a master of presenting a calm controlled imitation of herself over the months that had led up to this. The therapist Cuddy insisted she continue to see had tried to get her to flood the feedback of her repressed anxiety into something constructive. But right around the time the woman got to that part, she'd already drifted, her mind elsewhere even though it appeared she was grounded on exactly the same level of consciousness as the consummate professional they called Dr. Milton. If she fooled even a trained psychiatrist, she didn't give herself enough credit.

"Cameron."

House said her name back to her as though he was teaching her how to say it. He was studying her, that much she could tell, and he wasn't even looking at her.

"She's bigger now, already."

"Yeah, they're pumping her with steroids. I keep telling them, she'll never be allowed to compete, they're strict on that kinda thing now."

Her light sarcasm somewhat startled him and his painfully blue gaze sought hers and found it instantly, his eyebrows raised a notch. She smiled for the first time in what felt like far too long. Funny, how he hadn't even had to say much to evoke that response from her. Chase had bombarded her with comfort, with soothing words, yet House's mere presence eased her whole body.

"Nice to see you can still hold your own. I better watch out, with snark like that you might just have one up on me. But shhh, I never said that."

Again, that ghost of a smile passed over her. And all amusement was gone from her eyes as suddenly as it had appeared.

"My sister's coming back from New Zealand tomorrow. My mom told her about the baby…none of them know that I was…none of them know."

It saddened her somewhat to think of how distant her family had become over the years since she'd left home. At first she'd been terribly homesick going to college, not that she'd ever really had such a perfect family to miss. But it thawed out, and soon she'd become used to her independence. She'd managed to forget the bitter memories from back home and had fought to keep them buried. Some she fought with unconsciously, not even realizing they were wearing her down. She'd ended up returning to her hometown less and less. Eventually her mother had stopped nagging, accepting that medical school was heavy, that her daughter had grown up and flown the nest. What had bothered Susan Cameron more than anything though had been how easily Allison and Matthew had separated their lives from each other. They'd always been close as kids, and suddenly, after she left for college, their relationship had become strained at best.

"My brother…well, I don't think he even knows where I am, let alone what's been going on in my life."

House studied her long and hard and she felt scrutinised under his intensity. She didn't even have to look at him to know his eyes were on her. He was back to figuring her out, back to his old habit of needing to decipher every piece of the puzzle. Her puzzle.

"Stop trying to figure me out. This is it. This is everything I have, all right? I'm telling you, so stop picking me apart and trying to put the pieces back together. Because some of them don't fit anymore."

He was once again taken aback. Her voice was soft, her head bowed, as though in prayer he thought. What was with the spirituality all of a sudden? That was a question that struck him. She seemed peaceful, yet the battle raging in her soul was given away in her eyes. Always in the eyes.

For once in his life, he did as he was asked. The torment he read from her actually hit him deeper than he cared to admit. So he moved away from that subject, stopped trying to expose every part of her heart just to ease his own pathological need for answers. It was clear to him anyway. Matthew Cameron, beloved and protective older brother, had been unable to salvage what was left of an attachment between him and his younger sister after the fateful night that had eventually resulted in the current situation. He wondered if things might have been different now if it had been different back then. If _she'd_ be different. But it didn't really matter, and there was no use in what ifs and maybes.

"You given the sprog a name yet?"

He asked, twirling his cane in his hands, a distraction of sorts. He didn't want to look at her and he didn't want to look at the baby. He'd lost Cameron, in more ways than one. And he'd seen Chase's persistent guard over his daughter and the woman he loved for the past five days. He'd barely had a chance to come and see her, with Chase's constant, grating presence. Of course, it was understandable to everyone else, what with _his_ daughter under intensive care, and him being an intensivist and all. But it still aggravated House. All he wanted was a few moments with Cameron. He'd watched, over the week, how composed and dignified, elegant almost, Cameron looked as she sat beside the incubator. He'd watched her in the snatched moments when he was not being followed by Cuddy demanding clinic hours off him, or Wilson trying to just be the best friend. He'd watched how her eyes followed everything, how she took everything in whilst still under the pretence of distance and indifference.

Her blue eyes looked back at him, their colour shifting close to hazel as they flitted over to the baby, before resuming eye contact with him as she let a soft sigh pass her lips. She considered his question. A name.

"I can't. Not yet."

He seemed to understand and yet again a silence fell over them. He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. Small talk had never been his forte, yet he'd always welcomed silence. Unsure why this was different, he glanced around the NICU, scrutinizing the array of parents next to incubators, plenty of them older than Cameron, some younger. Yet each shared a common ground. Their children.

"How's our patient?"

House sighed and shook his head. She'd still insisted on being kept up-to-date with the case of the pregnant mother and daughter, but she hadn't left the NICU so there was only so much she could do to stay involved.

"Daughter was growing a cute little teratoma in her right ovary, which got a little pissed when it had to share with baby so it tried to get rid of it. Tykes today, I tell ya."

Cameron rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile from tugging at her lips.

"So, is she alright now? How's the baby?"

"Fine. Both mom and baby are doing great. As for mom's mom…well, she actually had lupus. Should have seen Chase and Foreman's faces. And Cuddy almost threw a benefit."

This time, a soft laugh passed her lips and House startled even himself when he smiled at this in response. House teased them because of their apparent affinity for suggesting lupus in nearly all of their differentials. Yet it never actually turned out to be the notorious autoimmune disorder they seemed so fond on. So when they really did get a case of lupus…they'd second-guessed themselves, ran tests for various other things, but it really was lupus.

--

"Hey Allison. How's she doing?"

A man who had just entered the NICU greeted Cameron and she waved in reply, assuring him of her daughter's steady developments. The man gave her a wide smile before telling her he'd 'catch her later' and heading over to an incubator a little further down.

The smile faded from House's face and he was back to studying her. He'd seen that guy in here every day so far and, like Cameron, he'd hardly left the whole five days he'd been here. House had never seen a mother and his inventive mind had created numerous scenarios for this man's life.

"You've been watching Danny."

His face riveted round to look at her. She really read him _that_ well? And how did she even know who he was? Stupid question, he chastised himself. This was Cameron. Nobody was 'just a number' with her. They were special, each with their own stories to tell, their own heartbreaks and tragedies she seemed to bear the brunt of when they broke down and bared their souls to her. He understood why they sought her for comfort. She was the stuffed animal made by Grandma after all, but he didn't understand why she simply accepted her position as eternal listener. The softness of her voice as she told parents that little Bobby wasn't going to make it to his third birthday always reverberated within him, as much as he suppressed that notion. Instead, he scowled and taunted her for her empathy.

He'd been so sure of himself those few years back, when he'd confronted her about her inability to cope with death like a doctor should be able to. He'd been so sure he was right when he audaciously told her she'd obviously lost a baby, which was the root cause of her issues. He'd been wrong. He only hoped that now, he wouldn't be right.

--

Danny's story was not something she'd ever really expected. As much as she berated herself for doing so, she'd already had an idea formulated in her head as to why his son, who had been born on exactly the same day as her daughter had, never had a mother visit or at least, a female caller. But when he'd started talking to her, and just sharing the silence of sitting watching their kids, she'd found out her preconceived ideas were far from accurate.

Daniel Montgomery had been married for eight years before his wife, Juliana, died. They'd tried to have kids for most of their married life, yet it was only when she'd been diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis that they managed to conceive. Consequently, she lost the baby before losing her own life not long after her diagnosis. That was two years ago, and his wife's death hadn't made him want children any less. At thirty-two years old, however, he found it hard think about remarrying and having children of his own.

So he'd opted to adopt his niece's baby when he found the young mother was going to put the baby up for adoption anyway. His sister Michelle – the baby's grandmother – had wholeheartedly agreed. Somehow, Danny felt as though his life had become somewhat of a soap opera. The baby had been born prematurely but there were high hopes for his survival. The baby's mother hadn't wanted to see her son and had handed all rights and responsibilities to her uncle, which Danny had been more than grateful for. He didn't see Charlie as his niece's child; in his eyes, the baby was the son he had never had the chance of bringing into the world with Juliana.

Over five days, he'd become friendly with Cameron and there was an unspoken understanding between them. They'd connected because of their shared situation and Cameron, for some unknown reason, felt she could talk to Danny in a way she couldn't talk to House or Chase. He was going through exactly what she was and it shared the load in a way.

With House, she always felt the need to be guarded; yet she trusted him implicitly. With Chase, she was always aware of his feelings for her and consciously kept a distance. And then there was the added anxiety of her fear of any close proximity. She didn't trust men in general after everything she'd been through and even though she felt some kind of empathy toward Danny, she couldn't call it trust. Still, he was a friend. She felt comfortable enough to talk to him as such, even after less than a week. But he didn't know what she'd been through. She tended to retreat from discussing that, so all he knew, from what he'd surmised from their conversations, was that she'd been through a hell of a lot in her life and it was…complicated, at best.

He'd told her his story but he didn't expect or want any kind of pity and he didn't expect her to let her story flood out in reciprocation. But he hoped that after their children were out of the woods and they could take them home, that they'd stay in touch. She was a friend. A friend he couldn't deny being attracted to nevertheless. But all he wanted right now was friendship; too much was going on in both their lives. He'd seen Chase visit her constantly and had rightly assumed him to be the father, but he was certainly interested by the other man who had been to see her twice in the five days. He didn't seem comfortable, but the way he looked at her, Danny could tell there was something bubbling under the surface.

As Cameron had done with him, Danny had automatically constructed what he thought to be a possible picture of her life. In no way did he hit upon the severity of her ordeal, instead assuming she'd possibly been in some kind of abusive relationship - though by the way the blonde man was with her, he couldn't imagine he was the one. As for the older man who visited and was currently sitting beside her, his eyes never leaving her as she threaded her fingers together with discomfort, Danny imagined him to be a main complication in her life, though not the cause of her obvious flinches if anyone got too close.

There was definitely an undeniable chemistry there. He could almost see the electricity between them. Yet there was some disquiet too, in the way their gazes would linger but then shift uncomfortably. The way Danny could see the older man's hands clenched into fists as though it was an effort not to reach out and touch her. He'd noticed that too. Both the blonde younger man and the older man were very careful around her, treated her like fine porcelain, never touched her – aside from a brief touch of the hand he'd witnessed earlier. He was curious as to why they handled her so warily; she seemed like a strong woman. But there was a kind of haunted spark behind the blueness of her eyes that even he had noticed. A morbid curiosity made him want to ask what had happened to her, but he kept it in check. She'd tell him if she wanted to and he wasn't going to push it.

--

"Let me take you for dinner."

Cameron's heart pummelled a few beats harder than usual and she glanced up sharply to meet his eyes. Her hesitation was obvious. After all, she had barely left the NICU for anything more than to use the restroom in nearly a week. It was exhausting; she had to admit. She felt, and was sure she looked, like death. But no matter how much she told herself they were past the worst of it now, and her daughter's chances were survival had more than doubled after the first day, she still couldn't bring herself to leave the baby's side.

"I…don't think that's such a good idea."

"She'll be fine, Allison. She'd got all these nurses around to watch over her. You need a break. I think you're as close as you can come to looking like hell."

"Is that meant to be a compliment?"

She offered a tight, forced smile at his words and the slight frown on his face as he weighed them in his mind. Then he shook his head and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"And Charlie's fine too. They're both strong kids; obviously take after their folks."

"I still don't know if it's…Danny, I like you, a lot. But…I _can't_ get into anything right now. Not with you, not with anyone."

He shook his head again, not seeming in the least deterred by her gentle refusal. He was determined that he'd take her mind off the worries and apprehensions of having a child in the NICU, even if it was just for an hour or so.

"I'm not proposing, Allison. I just want to take you for dinner. Not even a date, just dinner. You look like you could do with a good feed."

"Again, such a charmer."

She was avoiding giving him a response, buying herself time to formulate exactly how she could work this. But she found him endearing, enjoyed spending time with him, and she knew that everyone was right when they said she needed to take a break from the NICU. The nurses had accepted that no amount of persistent 'get out of here's would suffice so they'd given in and found her a fold-out cot she'd been sleeping in for five days. Certainly one of the most uncomfortable beds she'd ever experienced, but she didn't care. She knew they'd only relented in getting her the cot because a) they liked her and had crossed paths with the gentle and compassionate young doctor on numerous occasions when she tried to counterbalance Dr. House's acidic attitude and disregard for anything moral or polite; and b) if she was unhappy, Dr. House, as well as Dr. Cuddy who had agreed to Cameron's presence being permitted permanently, would be on their backs no doubt.

"So, is that a yes?"

"Danny…"

"Come on, Allison, you need to get out of here. Just dinner, that's all it'll be. And not the crappy stuff they call food in the cafeteria. We can go to the nearest restaurant and then you can hurry your pretty little butt right back up here afterwards."

She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of a smile on her lips as she nodded.

"All right, fine. We can go for dinner. Pierre's is the nearest."

The grin on his face was contagious and she found herself offering a genuine smile this time. He was persistent; she'd give him that. But she didn't feel pressured, because she knew he was just asking her as a friend. He'd noted before that there was a kind of sadness in her eyes but she'd just brushed it off with a nervous laugh. She wondered why people seemed able to read her so well. She'd thought only House could figure out what she was feeling just by making eye contact, but apparently she really was just that readable.

--

"I'll just have water. I don't think alcohol of any kind would do me any good. I'm pretty sure my immune system is compromised enough."

She replied, more to Danny than to the waiter who was offering a bottle of wine. She almost felt the need to assure the waiter, who clearly could have cared less either way, that it wasn't a date, just a dinner between friends.

"And the Tuscany Roasted Vegetables with sauté potatoes and salad please."

Danny smiled as the waiter took her order and turned to him.

"I'll have a glass of the house red, and fried calamari with the side salad please."

Once the young man had left them alone and gone to fill their orders, Allison found herself at a loss for what exactly to say to him. It had seemed easy to talk to him in the hospital; she'd been comfortable with him then. But taken out of that setting and thrust into one that could easily be interpreted as romantic, words that she would have found easy were now tedious to an almost painful extent.

"So, tell me about you. In the five days we've known each other I feel like I've bombarded you with my life, and you've not told me anything about yours."

Danny said lightly, folding his hands atop the table and smiling at her with open and honest warmth.

"Not much to tell really."

She cleared her throat and took a sip of water to buy some more time to think of what to tell him. He shook his head and reached across the table to grasp her hand. She jerked it back involuntarily and a flash of fleeting fear that gripped her for a moment slowly subsided and she looked away from him uneasily. Her eyes settling on the braid of intricate needlework on the tablecloth, she bit her lip and knew her reaction had hurt him a little.

"Like that," his voice was soft and void of any kind of accusation, "why do you do that? You seem…frightened if anyone gets too close. Tell me to back off if I'm pushing too much."

He quickly interjected a route of escape for her, sensing her unease in the way she seemed to avoid eye contact with reverence. Finally, after a few endless moments of hesitation filled with silence, she lifted her eyes to meet his. The raw emotion he saw conveyed cut through his chest in a way that startled even him. He was attracted to her, sure, but in no way did he feel _love_ for her. Of that he was sure. But that slicing sensation he'd only felt when he'd seen Juliana in pain was the sort that was niggling at his consciousness now.

"I…" she seemed to be fighting her own voice and as she shook her head, a lone tear dropped from her eyelashes, which she brushed away, embarassed, before continuing, "I was…I was raped."

His hearts sank and a knot of nausea tightened in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes from her but cold-bumps ran up his arms. She took a shaky breath and, at his stunned silence, continued, pushing away the silence.

"That's why I can't let anyone close. That's why I…panic. And that's why my baby was premature."

The truth was heart wrenching and he rebuked himself for pushing her to tell him. It obvious hurt her. And if it had caused her baby to be premature, it wasn't exactly a far-distant memory…it would still be agonisingly raw, considering the torment she had to have suffered. It all seemed to fit into place now, he thought. The wariness of almost everyone he'd seen her interact with in getting to close; the way she looked spooked and tensed instantly at the slightest contact. It sickened him, that anyone could commit such a crime on any woman, leave her picking up the pieces of a heart he was sure would never fully mend after the ordeal, but especially a woman like Allison Cameron. He barely knew her really, yet he was sure of one thing. She was one of the nicest, most sensitive and compassionate people he'd ever come across. How anyone could attack her with such ferocious malevolence wa beyond him.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to-"

"No, I'm sorry for pushing it. I shouldn't have forced you to tell me-"

As he leaned a little closer, not too close to unnerve her but close enough to keep the conversation between just them, a voice behind her jolted her and Danny looked up with a slight frown.

"Wow, Cameron, I'm impressed. You actually left the NICU for more than five minutes-"

"House…is she all right?! You've not come to tell me-"

"Relax woman, your little sweetheart's fine. And I see you're doing rather well yourself."

She was unsurprised to hear the hint of sarcasm in his tone as she met his eyes and shook her head in clear disapproval of the attitude. He ignored it, as usual. If he was being completely honest with himself, he'd felt an inexplicable twinge in his chest and a swirl of what could only be described as aversion in his stomach in the moment he'd caught sight of her sat in a restaurant with another man. Danny. He remembered him distinctly, due to his instant dislike for the way Danny let his gaze linger a little too long on Cameron, though he could tell the man neither intended nor realised he was doing so. Of course, Cameron was oblivious too. Probably why she'd agreed to dinner with him. Yet that agitation that pervaded him in the instant he'd caught sight of them inside the restaurant had been what caused him to go from unnoticed bystander on the street, to entering the restaurant and making his presence known, hoping to instil some kind of sentiment in Danny that she wasn't up for grabs in any way, so maybe he should back off.

"We're just having a friendly dinner. And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the restroom."

It was as large a hint she could give him without explicitly asking him to leave. But instead of retreating towards the door as she disappeared into the ladies' room, House fixed a steady gaze on Danny, who looked straight back at him with unwavering eye contact that grated on him instantly.

"A friendly dinner…my ass."


	18. Family

Hey all!

Just a quick note to say thank you for the lovely comments. I'm sorry to those of you who didn't want the pregnancy to go ahead, but it will play a pivotal role later on so it was going to happen anyway.  
This chapter, as the title states, is centred on Cameron's family, so excuse the lack of H/C moments - they'll be up next :D

Peace & Cheers  
Amy  
xxx

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Eighteen – Family**

It was Tuesday evening and House was on-call. Usually, he would have passed this responsibility off onto one of his unfortunate fellows, but right now he knew he'd rather be at work. As much as his bed sounded like a blissful place to be most of the time, tonight he had too much on his mind. Had he been in his usual state of mind, he would have left at five thirty on the dot. Yet it was almost half past six and here he was, still sat at his desk, idly throwing his overgrown tennis ball a few feet in the air and catching it again.

A soft voice broke the silence and he let his eyes drift toward the door. The voice was strangely familiar, yet he'd never met the woman standing in the doorway to his office. He knew he'd never met her before, because he didn't forget faces. Especially not a face as pretty as hers. Nevertheless, he felt as though he knew this woman…

"Dr. House, I presume? I'm Stella Cameron…Allison's sister."

…Ok, that explained a lot. Not letting even an ounce of interest cross his face, he allowed his gaze to flicker along the length of her body, subconsciously comparing her to her sister. Stella didn't flinch, and instead stood her ground even as House openly inspected her. Her older sister had told her stories about the man and she'd been pleasantly surprised when she had first caught sight of him. He was…certainly better looking than she'd expected. But he hadn't spoken a word to her yet and already she could tell her sister wasn't exaggerating when she'd warned her of his arrogant, indifferent attitude towards anyone and everyone. Yet even behind all that pre-amble about what an ass he could be, Stella had easily detected the note of adoration and warmth in Allison's voice when she talked about him.

"Two Camerons in the same building…damn, if there were candy canes up again this year, I'd really believe it was Christmas."

Stella regarded him critically. Her sister was really in love with this guy? Considering House and comparing him to her sister's late husband…Andrew had been nothing like Dr. Gregory House. But maybe that was why she'd fallen for him.

"Yeah, two of us – must be your lucky day. And the third is going to be here later. Think you'll be able to handle all the excitement? Especially considering we're all doctors and we're all quite able to handle your offensive and derogatory manner."

House didn't let on that her words startled him in their challenging coolness, but it struck him that perhaps immunity to his attitude was genetic. At the mention of another Cameron woman turning up, his mind was on overdrive. As much as he tried to force those fantasies out of his head, the idea of Allison having two sisters – he was impressed with the younger one's looks and he didn't doubt the other one would be a knockout too – especially considering they were all doctors, was driving his imagination round the bend.

"So…you're the younger or older one?"

Stella was sure he didn't care how offensive that question was, but she supposed that if she had been Kate – their older sister – it would have been a compliment. And it would have been a compliment to Allison too, so she let it pass.

"Younger. I'm twenty-seven. But I'm not here to talk about me. I want to know how Ally's been…she'll just say she's 'fine' if I ask her. I need real answers."

"Well, she is 'fine', anyone can see that."

House replied, suggestively raising an eyebrow and causing Stella to sigh and roll her eyes with tedium. She could tell it wasn't going to be easy getting a straight answer from him, and she guessed she might probably be as well just going and finding Allison, skipping this fruitless attempt of extracting feelings from the man sat at the desk across the room.

"She's…handling it. I know your sister as well as you do now," he couldn't help but think how untrue that statement was, with Cameron still being his own personal jigsaw puzzle and all, but he pressed on anyway, "So I think you know the answer to your own question already. That's not really why you came here. You were curious. Big sis told you about the scary, mean Dr. House who eats kiddies for breakfast, and you, having that annoying inherent Cameron trait, had to satisfy that curiosity by seeing for yourself that I really am _that_ much of an ass."

Stella didn't quite know what to say. Damn, he was good. He'd never even met her before and he'd read her like a book. It almost brought a smile to her lips, how she'd been rather pleased with herself in concocting such a good reason for her visit to House's office. She hadn't even been to see Allison and the baby yet, but her inquisitiveness toward House had been overly powerful when she'd seen his name in the lobby.

With brunette hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, as well as the same colour shifting, in-between shade of blue-green eyes, it was easy, in House's mind, to see the resemblance between the sisters. Stella's appearance made him more acutely aware of how much he really didn't know about Cameron's life…or at least, the life she'd led before she'd began her fellowship at PPTH.

Stella was startlingly pretty, just like her sister, though House couldn't help but think that Allison had more of a beauty about her, than the simple and uncomplicated prettiness Stella carried.

Nevertheless, their shared 'attractiveness' gene was not something he'd bypass or discard without consideration. After all, Cameron's looks were what he'd initially hired her for anyway. He couldn't help but wonder though, if he saw Stella as simply 'pretty' whereas he'd class Cameron as 'beautiful', because he was in love with Cameron and not her younger sister…and that thought stopped him dead in his tracks. As he realised where his own thoughts had taken him, to admitting to himself so easily that he was in love with Cameron, it was as though he was jolted back to life and he snapped out of the trance he'd found himself lost in. The revelation of such an easy acceptance of his feelings for Cameron startled him way out of his comfort zone.

"You still on this planet?"

Stella's voice, so much like Allison's, lulled him back to the present with gentle concern. Yet another irritating trait that seemed intrinsic to the Cameron women - that unprovoked concern, which seemed to materialize at the slightest sense of tension in another person. House nodded distractedly in answer to her question, before indicating the door behind her.

"I think you're probably best going to _see_ your sister, instead of interrogating me about her."

"She was right about you. You're an arrogant ass, but you care. And you care about her."

With that, Stella was gone. She didn't leave as much of an impact on him as her sister always did when she left the room, and it caused him to seriously contemplate what had happened the night before, and just how it really had effected him. Seeing Cameron out with another man, even if they both insisted it was just 'a friendly dinner' had really struck a chord. He hadn't liked it one bit.

--

House had walked in on Cameron and Danny's little 'date' on purpose. He was sure they all knew that. He'd been overcome with an inexplicable feeling of possessiveness and had needed to establish some kind of control over proceedings. So he'd walked in there, as audaciously as you please, and sauntered – as much as a cripple with a cane could saunter – straight over to their table. Cameron hadn't seemed all that surprised at his sudden appearance but House had noted, with great satisfaction, the tension that had immediately entered Danny's posture. The other man's shoulders had squared; his eyes maintained a chillingly icy glare with House's and his jaw had set. So all in all, House figured he'd achieved what he'd aimed for. By turning up, their "non-date" was all but over. He knew, as conceited as it sounded, that he would be on Cameron's mind the rest of the night, so Danny wouldn't get very far. Not that he needed to worry about that really, with Cameron's 'issues' with being in any kind of proximity, but he just wanted to strengthen his own reassurances that Cameron was still his.

He'd scoffed at the idea of their dinner being a 'non-date', just a dinner between friends. There was no such thing where Allison Cameron was concerned. He had acknowledged this himself since his own 'non-date' with her. It had been far from platonic, in his mind. He was extremely attracted to her, as she knew, and as much as he had stressed the point of his asking her to the Monster Trucks as being a 'date without the date part', he'd later admitted to himself, though never to her, that all night the only thing he'd really been able to think about was kissing her. Every time she'd laughed or gasped in awe at the trucks slamming into each other or sailing high into the air, he'd felt himself respond in ways he didn't know were still functioning for him. At least not just from the sound of a woman's laugh, or her pretty mouth making a perfect 'O' of delight and astonishment as she watched the trucks, completely distracted by them, which allowed him to really watch her and imagine the things he could do to her, imagine how he could make that pretty mouth make the same 'O' of delight because of something he did to her.

But it was all too late now anyway. She'd been broken far too much since then for her to ever really get back to the days when she would have quite readily jumped into a relationship with her misogynistic, damaged and quite-a-bit-older boss. The age difference had unsettled him at first, but as he'd found his feelings toward her deepening, the years between them didn't seem that vast. She was almost two decades his junior, yet there was an air of maturity in her that he'd never really found in a woman of her age. She'd been through a lot in her life and, whilst that hadn't had any kind of effect on her youthful yet womanly beauty, it had forced her to grow up quickly all those years ago. And life hadn't been any kinder since then. The sparkle he always found in her eyes had never been dulled by the torment she'd endured; yet there was a melancholy sadness in them that always hit him in the region of his chest.

--

"Hey big sis."

Cameron looked up from the medical journal she'd become occupied with and a smile instantly lit up her face. She wasn't amazingly close to either of her sisters, but just having Stella turn up had improved her mood drastically. She was well aware, however, that Stella knew very little about the circumstances that had brought Cameron to the current situation. She didn't even know who the father of her niece was, let alone all the other, more pertinent details.

"Stella! It's so good to see you."

Cameron stood up and pulled her younger sister into a hug. She'd talked to Stella on the phone a few times over the years, but their contact had been minimal, what with living on opposite sides of the world. It had been just over a year since they'd seen each other, which, with their kind of tenuous sibling relationship, wasn't very long ago. As they broke out of their embrace, Stella grinned.

"You too, Ally, you look brilliant considering what's happened. I assume this is my beautiful little niece."

Stella turned to the incubator where the baby lay, still attached to various monitors and tubes. The sight gave her cold-bumps and she felt the twist in her gut at the thought of what Allison must have been through.

"How is she? Have they diagnosed any complications?"

"Well, she has a congenital heart defect but the prophylaxis seems to be keeping her stable, no endocarditis so far. And now it's just getting her breathing properly on her own. She could have retinopathy of prematurity but they don't want to do those tests just yet. They had her in surgery pretty much as soon as she was born so any more could be too much for her. But she's stable and she's fighting now. At first they didn't think she was going to get through twenty-four hours, all things considered."

Stella brought her gaze back to Cameron's and she regarded her curiously. _All things considered_ didn't sound like it was a case of simple prematurity that was the underlying cause of the baby's problems here.

"What 'things' were there to consider?"

Cameron looked flustered for a moment, shaking her head and trying in vain to smooth over what she'd said. She hadn't wanted to go into this, but she knew Stella wouldn't let it go until she knew all the details, until the puzzle was complete. In some ways, she had many traits Cameron could relate to House, with the added empathy and placidness that would seem to contradict it, were she not a doctor of the Cameron family. With a heavy sigh, Cameron returned to sitting on the chair beside the incubator, Stella dropping into the one next to her and studying her intensely.

"Y'know, keeping that stare trained on me isn't going to make me suddenly pour everything out to you. It's…complicated."

Stella was visibly unaffected by her words, but they made a slight wound below the surface. She'd accepted a long time ago that Allison was a private person and could hide her feelings well. But right now, the storm beneath her calm and controlled exterior was raging and it was visible to her. Just because her sister all-but warned her to back off, it didn't mean she would comply.

"Is it about her father? Who is he? Is House her father?"

"Please…just drop it. And _no_, House is not her father. For that to happen we would have had to _sleep together_, Stella."

"Well then, why can't you tell me-?"

"Chase, alright? Robert Chase, you've met him before. You spent all your time at that gala night trying to set us up and it didn't work-"

"Ah, but I must have been doing something right, I mean, with the baby on the scene now and all."

Cameron couldn't help but smile solemnly. How simple it could sound, and how easily she had assumed all was right with the world because her sister had found someone and had procreated. That was a naivety Cameron remembered well, back before things got so complicated and…broken. When, in fact, Cameron hadn't found that someone – or at least, she had but never dreamed it could work now – and the current situation had only caused the rift that was always present between herself and Chase to develop into something more representative of an abyss.

"Chase and I aren't together."

The way her sister's face fell caused her to comply with the urge to look down and occupy herself with fidgeting, focusing on anything but that look of disappointment. Why did everyone want her with Chase? Because he was good for her? Was that an appropriate reason to stay with someone, when feelings were so one-sided? It could only end in tears. She acknowledged with fervour that she'd done the right thing by pushing Chase away. Even though he cared about her, she did not love him and couldn't force herself to. When it came to feelings, she still seemed like the same Cameron as she always had been, but when confronted with physical closeness, it stole her breath and made her want to recoil with both fear and repulsion, no matter who was doing the touching.

She'd been damaged before, and now that beautiful disaster of a train wreck had collided with such intensity that it had shaken her to the core. She wasn't the same, and she never would be. It wasn't about fitting the pieces back together; it was about slowly soothing the broken parts and fitting them into a new jigsaw. And that's exactly what her heart felt like right now. A jigsaw. One in which half the pieces were missing.

"Have you named her yet?"

Cameron was silently grateful that she had just simply accepted her words and changed the subject. Perhaps the discomfort in her posture had alerted Stella to the fact that Chase was not a route of conversation she was willing to follow. Shaking her head in response to her sister's question, Cameron's eyes fell on her daughter. She was in awe of this child. So tiny and fragile yet so strong and beautiful. She'd opened her eyes today as well, and Cameron had almost cried when she saw the infant's blue sapphires looking right up at her. It was then she realised the truth. The baby was her saving grace. In a world she was sure was going to break her down and leave her flat on the floor with no safety net to grab onto, this miracle baby girl was clinging to the life Cameron had given her, sent to set her free and give her some kind of reason to believe things would get better.

"I've…been too frightened that naming her would…"

She shook her head, embarrassed by her irrational fear. In her mind, it was justified. By naming her daughter, that was cementing the attachment, and losing her would be a blow she wouldn't be able to pull back from. Stella seemed to understand and nodded, reaching out and squeezing her sister's hand.

"She's a fighter, Ally…I think you should name her. She's a week old, it's time to start believing in her."

It wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed her mind. She hadn't had to sit down and consider a name, like most parents did, because she'd known even during her pregnancy what she would call her. After the baby had survived through everything her mother had, Cameron had known in her heart what she would name her.

"Faith. Faith Scarlett Cameron."

Stella smiled and had to fight the tears that threatened to overcome her. Allison had always been a maternal type, without ever giving anyone reason to believe she wanted her own children. But seeing her hand gently reach into the incubator, the tiny fingers of the baby wrapping themselves around the comfort and security she instinctively sought in her mother, Stella couldn't imagine how she hadn't seen in before. She was going to be a wonderful mother; no matter how little confidence she had in her abilities to care for a child.

--

"I hear you named her. Stella was excited that she was the first one to find out. I think I can play the jealous older sister card here."

Cameron grinned up at her older sister and shook her head, stifling a laugh. So typical of Kate was the statement that Allison almost felt the need to retort with sarcasm, as she was so used to doing nowadays. Her sister had entered the NICU about an hour and a half hour after Allison had returned from the cafeteria and Stella had gone to settle herself in at the hotel she was staying at.

When she'd returned, finding a few nurses around Faith's incubator, she'd panicked and almost fell over herself trying to find out what was happening. One of the nurses she'd built a rapport with over the week, calmed her with a bright smile and assured her everything was fine. The baby was breathing by herself so they were removing one of the tubes. The wave of relief that had hit Cameron had been almost violent.

So now, with Faith breathing on her own, and tight control on all the other variables that could destabilise her, Cameron had finally been allowed to hold her daughter. Sitting in the chair she'd grown accustomed to, Cameron lost all sense of time, caught up in staring at the little infant in her arms who had twisted her tiny fist into her mother's blouse, and took in every detail about her daughter. The blue eyes – though she was aware that all babies were born with blue eyes and they could very well change to resemble more the blue-green of her own and Chase's – the mass of dark hair, the fine bones that looked almost too fragile to handle, and the way every part of her looked so delicate and unbelievably soft.

Looking down again at the baby, Cameron smiled before finding Kate's gaze again.

"Well, she'll have reason to play the jealous _younger_ sister card when she finds out you held your niece before she did."

Kate sat down beside her and instantly held out her arms. Cameron had no worries about carefully and gently laying her daughter in Kate's arms. With three children of her own, Kate was quite at ease and familiar with children, but she hadn't expected the stir of emotion to prick at her when she looked down into her niece's face. She hadn't expected Allison to give up working long enough to have kids, or more importantly, to have the social life required to find the father of said kids. It seemed she'd managed, however, and she was quite positive the whole experience would be good for her little sister.

"Faith's a beautiful name," she smiled, and Allison frowned a little, "Yeah, you didn't really expect Stella to keep her mouth shut about it, did you? I wouldn't put it past her to have broadcast it somewhere. But Faith _is_ a beautiful name; it suits her. I'm proud of you, Ally. This can't have been easy. You should have called one of us sooner. Mom might've been a bit dramatic, but I told you I'd always be able to help you at least."

Granted, Kate had been the sensible older sister, off at college and providing a very good role model for her younger siblings, but Allison and Kate had always had some kind of inexplicable distance between them. Not that she didn't love her sister, because she did. She loved her family. But their childhood had been anything but easy, and though she had partially hoped it would bring them closer together, it only served as the catalyst for them to drift further apart. Maybe Faith would be what brought them closer.


	19. Home

--S-T-O-L-E-N--C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--

**Chapter Nineteen - Home**

Monday morning rolled around to mark the start of another long week, and as usual, House could be found sat idly contemplating in his office, his brilliant mind wandering on whatever issues were weighing heavily at any given time. They didn't have a case, so as far as he was concerned, he didn't need to deal with Foreman or Chase or that Cameron look-alike Cuddy had taken it upon herself to hire whilst Cameron herself was on maternity leave. He didn't even feel the need to bother learning her name. It wasn't like she'd be bothering him for very long anyway, with Cameron being the workaholic she was, so what was the point in 'getting to know her'?

It had become a worryingly regular occurrence that House's thoughts would turn to Cameron and as much as he tried to steer his mind elsewhere, something always brought him back. He'd become something he would actually class as a 'friend' to her over the weeks, and now and again, he was even _nice_ to her. He'd acknowledged by now that he certainly felt more than friendly feelings for her, but they were on the backburner for now. She'd come a long way over the months since the attack, and it was nearing a year since she'd gone through all that, but the memories weren't so distant that she could simply move on from them. She'd managed to put it behind her, sure, but little triggers would sometimes jolt her subconscious back to that time and she'd feel herself unravelling. The trick had been in controlling that helpless feeling of having no control of herself, and she'd even finally come off the anti-depressant and anti-convulsive drugs she'd been on for the panic attacks, feeling able enough to control them herself. The majority of what had pulled her through had been the light her daughter had given her, that incentive to be strong and fight it like the baby had.

Faith Cameron had been stable and breathing on her own for two weeks when they took the majority of the tubes out, she was feeding properly and the outlook was positive. She'd put on a good amount of weight, was responsive to stimuli they constantly tested her with, and looked to be developing brilliantly.

The tests they'd done when she was stable enough had indicated that Faith had a congenital heart defect, but fortunately, they'd managed to repair it due to her rapid developments. After the surgery, her breathing had improved dramatically, as had her ability to gain weight. Cameron was well aware that there was a strong possibility that her daughter would have developmental difficulties later on in her childhood, and that the ramifications of the prematurity may not have all reared themselves yet, but she was optimistic and had decided to take each day as it came.

Cameron was simply grateful for the second chance she'd been given with the baby, thankful for the mercy that Faith had pulled through. She'd improved so much, in fact, that after a third week of steady progression, the NICU consultants were all in agreement that she could be taken home. At almost a month old, Cameron could finally take her daughter home.

--

Lunchtime seemed to take an age to roll around, and by that time, House had already eaten his Reuben-less-the-pickles, as well as having completed all the levels of "Metroid: Zero Mission" by ten o'clock. With Cuddy away at a conference, he was actually kind of bored by the lack of need to sneak around playing his game boy. To add another downer to his day, General Hospital had been cancelled and replaced by a news bulletin he was less-than-interested in. He didn't see why people would want to hear the total number of people who'd died in a hurricane on the other side of the world, when they could just as easily be finding out what's going to happen if Logan and Anthony find out Lulu slept with Johnny!

So basically, Dr. Gregory House was bored. And he was currently contemplating how much amusement he could get from moving everything around in Wilson's office. That seemed like too much manual labour though, and he really couldn't be bothered. Part of him wished Cameron was back, because just having her as something to look at certainly banished his boredom.

At that thought, another struck him and he almost smiled to himself. There were two reasons this new plan would work. A) It would piss the hell out of Cuddy when she got back and found House had been disappearing out of the hospital in the middle of the day, and b) he'd get to see his favourite immunologist.

--

"You're…not Cameron."

Rapping with his cane on the apartment door he'd come to know quite well over the years, House was somewhat thrown when a woman he didn't recognise opened the door.

"Yes, I am. Kate Cameron. And you are?"

It all clicked into place then and he eyed her suspiciously. Cameron's sisters were _still_ in town? They'd arrived three weeks previous and, having noted the marked absence of the younger sister, the one who had introduced herself, House had assumed they'd left town at some point. Apparently not.

"Dr. House. I'm guessing _you're_ the older sister. I think little sis Sarah got offended when I asked if she was the older one. But don't take it personally; you've got better fun bags anyway."

"It's Stella, not Sarah, and yes Ally is here."

She wasn't looking too impressed by him, and House knew he'd outdone himself. One sentence and she already couldn't stand him. This was probably where Cameron got it from; her pathological need to be appreciated for her achievements rather than her high rating on the attractiveness scale.

House remembered Stella mentioning that they were all doctors, and House guessed the older one was the head of some department or another. She was very controlled, very sure-of-herself. Probably a mother too, if his eyes served him correctly as they passed her breasts on their journey along the length of her body. Kate noticed and gave him a withering glare, crossing her arms over her chest and standing decidedly firm, an unspoken gesture that she wasn't going to let him in with an easy invitation.

"Katie, who is it?"

The soft voice came from further in the apartment, muffled by the running of water, a baby's whining and the background buzz of an unwatched show on the TV. He had no problem identifying it as Allison's voice. He hadn't seen her in a few days now; since she'd brought the baby home, and he was somewhat disappointed she had her sister over.

"Some asshole looking for you."

Kate moved away from the door, throwing him a cold sideward glare that did nothing to cover up her strong distaste at his presence. Returning to her place on the sofa, she picked her niece up out of the crib that took pride of place in the middle of the room – perhaps because there really wasn't much room elsewhere just yet, and by the look of the boxes around the place, Cameron was planning to move out of the apartment sometime soon.

House pushed the door further open with the end of his cane and let himself in, shutting it behind him and standing somewhat awkwardly in the threshold. Being in her home, especially with more of her family than he'd ever been in a room with before, was awkward at the best of times for him, but when her sister clearly disliked him – not that he much cared about what she though anyway – and he wasn't even sure what he was visiting for in the first place, his discomfort seemed to increase twofold.

"We really need to work on your taste in men, Ally."

Kate called to her younger sibling, not bothering with polite subtlety. House raised his eyebrows as he mulled Big Sis' words over. Allison's sister knew of her feelings for him? Well that could be…awkward, if he cared about her opinion.

Allison rolled her eyes as she emerged from her bedroom, and out of habit, he couldn't help but note how beautiful she was. She looked exhausted and was wearing sweatpants and a grey, oversized North-Western t-shirt, her hair tossed into a messy pony tail, tendrils loose around her face, yet House still could hardly keep his eyes off her.

Glancing at Kate, that smirk on her face told him she'd caught his gaze and could read him like a book. He silently cursed himself for his inability to be his usual imperturbable self, and for letting just the sight of Allison knock him off kilter.

"Put your claws away, Kate," Allison warned her sister, heading to the kitchen and offering a small smile of greeting to House.

Kate just simply narrowed her eyes at House, before standing, baby in her arms, and heading for the door.

"I'm taking Faith out for a little while, so you two can _talk_, or whatever."

And with that, she fixed the cooing infant into the pushchair waiting patiently by the door, and curtly excused herself, shutting the door firmly behind her. That left House and Cameron alone in the apartment, awkward tension settling over them as she returned to the room with a cup of coffee in each hand.

She silently handed him one of the cups and he accepted it, following her to the sofa after a moment. The action was almost familiar, as though it was a regular occurrence that he would turn up at her place, drive her sister away and then sit beside her on her sofa. Strange.

"Guess you're moving to a new place then."

He noted, focusing his interest on the constant movement of the coffee in his cup as he cradled it in his hands, whilst trying to think of an appropriate reason to give her were she to ask why he'd suddenly shown up. But no, she'd changed. She didn't feel the need to know his motives for everything he did anymore; she didn't need all the answers to complete the puzzle. He, however, still sought that. And yet again, her puzzle had become more and more complex.

"I'm thinking about going home."

House's head, previously dropped to rest his chin on his chest, as he analysed the coffee, now lifted sharply and his eyes fell on her form without hesitation. But she didn't turn her head to meet his piercing gaze.

"You're…going home…"

He repeated her words, letting them settle in and form some kind of meaning in his jumbled mind. If he just simply accepted her leaving…he'd lose her for good. He'd realised over the last year, with all the drama they'd endured, that he _couldn't_ lose her. If she'd said she was simply quitting her job, sure he'd not be best pleased, but this was bigger. She'd be moving completely out of his reach, back to her home state, back with a family he knew she had a difficult relationship with. Why would she do that?

She didn't offer any more of an explanation and simply looked down into the amber liquid she was swirling mindlessly in her cup whilst he studied her, analysing the damage he could read so clearly. She had those eyes. Those sad kind of eyes that gave away everything, yet at the same time kept everything hidden. Reaching out, acting what he was later recall as rather uncharacteristically, he grabbed her hand, silently forcing her to look at him. The urge to concede to his unspoken demand was overwhelming and a sigh passed her lips as she complied, the coffee in her other hand forgotten as she placed it onto the coffee table before meeting his eyes. The brutal and raw emotion she found there shocked her, mesmerised her into remaining silent. As hard as it was for him, he maintained eye contact too, brushing his thumb over her knuckles tenderly.

"Don't."

She frowned, needing an explanation for the simple word that passed his lips. It meant so much, was loaded with a thousand words he couldn't voice, yet she needed more and couldn't explain that. He struggled to find the right way to voice what he was feeling, after all he'd never been much good at that, but he surmised that if an explanation would keep her with him, then he'd do it.

"Don't leave. I need you. I'm no good at saying 'I love you' every three minutes like maybe Chase was; words are cheap and they make me uncomfortable. I need you. That's unambiguous; it covers it all. I care about you, I want you and I…love you. _Need_ kinda covers all of those," at the stunned silence he received when he paused, her hand still in his, he continued, quirking an eyebrow and covering himself with sarcasm, "Plus, I'm a cripple so you're obliged to stay, 'cause you have that big, warm fuzzy heart and a pathological need to fix me," another pause and a clear of his throat, seriousness returning, "So I'm asking you to stay. I'm ready to be fixed."

She looked as though the tears filling her eyes would stream down her cheeks at any give second, but yet again she surprised him with the inner strength she seemed to have an endless supply of, because she fought them. Those sad eyes, torment filled pools the colour of the ocean, gave away how damaged she was deep down inside that perfectly broken heart. His words had struck a chord in her and she squeezed his hand, choked by the tears she was fighting back. Finally, she managed to regain her voice.

"I know how hard that was for you…but I don't want to fix you. I've never wanted to fix you. You could just never accept that I really do love you for who you are, not what you think I want you to be."

He was somewhat stunned, and overly touched by her words, though such an emotion he wouldn't show. Even he had his limits, for God's sake.

A single tear drifted down her cheek and much to his surprise, when he instinctively brushed it away, she didn't flinch. Noting the softness of her porcelain skin beneath his callous fingertips, he was sure he felt her lean into his touch, her eyes falling closed as a mixture of a sigh and a sob passed her lips.

This was a big development for her. It was the closest she'd been, physically, to anyone in almost a year. And it didn't scare the hell out of her as much as she'd thought it would. But maybe that was because it was House. Even days after the attack, all those long months ago, she'd felt somewhat safe in his presence. As though she knew, instinctively, that he'd never hurt her intentionally. At least, not any more than he had done in the past. And that was what had kept her awake at night. He _had_ hurt her in the past. She'd lost count of the nights she'd lay in bed hating herself for loving him, after his constant rejections, the torture he put her through every single day. Yet she still trusted him implicitly, without question, without any kind of doubt. Blind love, the most dangerous kind.

Yet Chase had been there throughout everything, he'd never hurt her and never would. He loved her and was open about his feelings for her, actively pursued her, determined to show her what she meant to him. And she'd still not felt the security she did with House. When Chase had touched her, she'd recoiled from it, the sensation shuddering through her and making a wave of gripping tension course through her entire body. It was completely mystifying how that logic worked, but it did. As her eyes drifted open again and the cloudy haze of her thoughts cleared, she found her voice.

"What you said…House, I never thought I'd hear those words from you. And you have no idea what it means to me. I need you too…but I've got to get away from here. For the next few months at least, I'm on maternity leave anyway…I'm going to be nursing Faith as a single mom and I can't go this alone. I was going to go back to Wisconsin for a while, get back on my feet, y'know? My parents still live on the farm I grew up on."

House would have laughed if the situation had been different. Cameron was a Wisconsin farm girl born and raised. Why didn't that surprise him? It was a sobering through that she'd be all those states away though, and he took her other hand. This was the most sincerity - and the most vulnerability - he'd shown in longer than he dared to remember. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she left, so he would do everything in his power to keep her.

Maybe he wasn't father material, and she was in no place right now for any kind of relationship. But maybe, by putting his heart that he'd buried deep down inside of him, refusing most of the time to acknowledge its existence, on the line for her…maybe she'd see what he was offering and grasp onto it. He could never be sure with her. What he could be sure of was that he _knew_ her, and the walls that were surrounding her right now were no strangers to him either. Perhaps that was a point that would keep her. He knew it was selfish, wanting her to stay solely because he couldn't bare the thought of her not being around. But he knew it would be better for her too, in the long run.

"They don't know, do they?"

He searched her eyes but he already knew the answer. It was confirmed when she dropped her gaze and bit her lip, as if biting back the emotions she was afflicted with right now.

"They don't know what you've been through…Cameron, you need to stay. You can't hide out on your idyllic little farm, pretending you're not all broken up inside, because there's only so long you can keep that up before you crack. You need to work it all out _here_, because-"

"This isn't all about what you want, House."

Her voice was shrill and he knew he'd hit a nerve, pushed a little too much. After all, he never really knew his limits. She pulled her hand out of his, beginning to pace the floor on the other side of the coffee table, putting some distance back between them. He felt the loss of contact keenly. She was more than a little off-balanced by the curveball he'd thrown, the revelation from him, in words, that he really did need her. But this was him, and she knew reasons behind his speech, though not _entirely_ motivated by his selfishness, had a lot to do with exactly that.

What had he said? _He_ needed _her_. Sure, but what about what _she_ needed? Maybe surrounding herself with her family would be the best thing for her right now, as difficult as it would be. It wasn't like she'd be leaving for good. She'd just be taking a Time Out; going back to her roots and finding her feet in the uncharted territory of motherhood she'd found herself thrust into. Though she didn't think being around her own mother would help any, it was the only place she could think to go back to, where she knew well enough to feel a little more at ease than she did in New Jersey right now.

"I…I can help you, if you stay. I don't think I'd be much of a dad, but at least I understand what you've gone through. You need that, and I think you know that too. Going home won't do you any good. You'll lock yourself away because they don't know what happened. And then you'll be even more alone than you feel now. You can surround yourself with people, Cameron, and you'll still feel alone. You can go home but feel like you're a stranger to the old life you used to live. Because you've changed a lot sine you left there, and you know that as well as I do. You've changed so much in the last three years that I don't think your own mother would recognise you. Will that make you feel any happier there than you are here, when your own mother feels like a stranger? In fact, you'll feel more isolated than if you stayed here and raised her alone. But here…at least we know everything already. We all know the woman you've become. You don't have to pretend with us."

Silence from Cameron told him that maybe he'd hit the nail on the head. She slowly returned to the sofa, elbows on her knees as she covered her face with her hands. He hadn't said it would be easy, and it certainly wouldn't be. Exhaustion was making her delirious lately, and as much as she realised she'd have been lost without her sisters' help over the last week, she still felt uncomfortable with the way Stella would loom at her sometimes. And Kate had started it too, so they'd obviously talked. They knew there was something she wasn't telling them, she was just glad they hadn't began interrogating her about it, because she was sure she'd break. How exactly did you tell your sisters that their niece was partially brain damaged and half-blind because her mother had been raped and subjected to inordinate amounts of trauma in early pregnancy, yet here she was, fully functioning and hiding it all inside? That wasn't something she could simply drop into conversation whilst discussing the weather, and she could just anticipate the silence that would befall them if she ended up breaking under applied pressure from questions they would ply her with. She didn't ever want to tell them. So perhaps surrounding herself with them back home, with the added stress of an estranged and overly assertive mother, would not be such a great idea.

Reaching over and taking her hand again, House lifted her chin with his other hand before cupping both of her cheeks and pausing. No words were exchanged, but so much was said between them. Hesitantly, he moved a little closer. She could react very badly to any advanced, but on the other hand, maybe she needed this. As gently and as slowly as possible, he leaned closer and placed a feather-light kiss onto her lips. A few moments after their lips connected, his fingers still grazing her cheeks gently so that she could pull away at any point, he tasted the salty streak of tears in her kiss and pulled back. She had her eyes closed, head tipped ever so slightly to the side, and tears were streaming down her cheeks, her body shaking silently from the sobs. He was torn, not sure whether her tears indicated that he'd broken the last piece of her she'd been grasping onto.

Finally, her eyes fluttered open as her body began to cease its trembling, the two pools of green-blue falling on him and immediately recognising the conflicted expression enhancing the chiselled features of his face, the icy-blue of his eyes. She didn't know how to explain her reactions to his kiss. She'd needed it. She'd needed to taste that kiss for a long time, but her body and mind had involuntarily reacted due to the uncontrollable defence mechanisms she had strongly in place. For the first time in nearly a year, she hadn't been terrified by the physically closeness.

And with one kiss he'd convinced her. Home was right were she was now, not somewhere in the countryside of Wisconsin. If House was here, this was home.


	20. Reasons

Hey guys!

I'm sorry I haven't updated on here for so long, it's been crazy-hectic in the real world! This is the second to last chapter, and the Epilogue is next.

Comments are love - it's really helpful knowing what you think about particular things in each chapter :)

Peace and cheers

Amylia

--------------------S-T-O-L-E-N---C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--------------------

**Chapter Twenty – Reasons**

"Cameron, you're back! Thought you were gone for good."

It felt somewhat like déjà vu; Foreman and Chase greeting her, a warm and friendly embrace from Foreman and a smile and awkward hug from Chase. He still didn't know how to handle her, and she couldn't exactly blame him. He seemed to be overly used to her pushing him away if he tried to get close. She felt somewhat guilty that they'd come to this, awkward tension and nervous energy between them, but that was the way it was and they couldn't exactly go back and change things now. Better to just put it behind them, as much as that was possible when they had a child together.

House barely turned around. Not that she'd really expected anything different. He glanced her way and gave a succinct and barely perceptible nod before grabbing his cane from the table and making for the door.

"Clinic duty calls. Wouldn't want Mistress Cuddy to come after me with the whips and chains…"

He pulled a face that indicated less-than-pure thoughts were supposed to have been conjured by his words, before he swung open the glass door and left without a backward glance.

"Welcome back."

Foreman muttered to Cameron, shaking his head at the complete disregard House had shown her. She didn't look surprised or even remotely fazed by it…but he could never tell these days. She'd become the master of vacant looks and the 'shrug it off, doesn't bother me' attitude. He had a feeling though, that inside it was a bit of a stinging blow. Yet again.

---

"Do you want me back or not? Don't blow hot and cold with me, House. I came back because…I thought…"

Cameron had simply let House avoid her all day. Each time she'd seen him disappearing off in the other direction she'd bit back the anger the bubbled inside her and brushed it off. She honestly didn't know where she stood. It had been three months now since the evening he'd turned up at

Kate had returned again for a week, though she didn't hide her frustration at her sister's seesawing indecision when it came to the choice of going back home with them or staying in Princeton. Cameron had simply gone back to work to see whether it would be such a mistake to go home, or whether things really had changed and maybe she had everything she needed right here after all. Kate was looking after Faith, doting on her niece whilst Cameron finally returned to work. Danny was still around though, and Cameron and Kate always took it in turns to mind Charlie for him too.

When Cameron did return to work and found nothing had changed with House, everything that had happened the few months before seemingly forgotten, she knew he'd run out of his chances. She couldn't stay on this rollercoaster any longer. He'd managed to climb over the walls she'd built up, yet now he was running scared, clambering back over them as though what he'd found on the other side was too grown-up a puzzle for him to figure out. She thought that giving him space for a few months would have maybe helped him come around to her side of thinking, to accept there was something between them that kept them coming back no matter what. But apparently not.

"You thought what, we could play happy families now?"

House glanced up sharply, ice-cold eyes settling on her and causing the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. She opened her mouth, trying to form words, but nothing passed her lips. He was back to being the cold, misanthropic bastard she knew him so well as. So why the hell did she keep coming back, when she knew this was what he was like?

"Just because you decide to stay here, it doesn't change anything, Cameron," his words were a little softer now at least, a slither of regret lacing them as he looked away and trained his gaze blankly out of the window, "You're still damaged and I'm no father figure. You don't want Chase, great. But I'm not exactly the flawless model of perfection-"

"And I never said I wanted you to be, how many times do I-?"

"Okay! I get it, you 'love me as I am'," and the mocking was back. Overuse of defence mechanisms at its finest, "But you need to think about why you're really back here. If it's for me then, what do you expect me to say?"

She didn't know what to say to him. Should she give him the cliché he was waiting for? The stuttering uncertainty as she tried yet again to convince him they could work? Or should she just do what she had been dreading to admit was right? Letting her gaze fall to his feet, unable to maintain eye contact without him being able to read the pain she was barely able to contain, she summoned every ounce of strength she had in her. Because she was going to need it now.

"I don't expect anything of you…I was stupid to think I could actually mean anything to you in the first place, I know. I've given my resignation letter to Cuddy already, and I've written my own reference. It's on your desk; you just need to sign it. And if you could make sure it gets to Dr. Rubin at Aurora, I'd really appreciate it."

The cold, curt edge in her voice even mildly startled herself, but she simply turned on her heel and, without glancing back at him once, she made her way back toward the office. She remembered a conversation they'd had, when he'd said she'd never leave, said she _couldn't_. A physical incapability. So she knew how she must look, with tears in her eyes and a beat-up heart. But this time she wouldn't turn around; she was gone for good. He'd blown it.

---

"Glad to see you've _finally_ come to your senses, Ally. Wasted months of your life, but at least you've made the right choice."

Kate pulled up outside the hospital, a reassuring smile at the ready as she leaned to open the door for her little sister. She'd been patient, waiting around and praying she listened to her head and not her heart this time. Because when Allison followed what her heart said, it only ended in tears. Sometimes it was just better to be logical. Allison was a doctor too after all, and Kate was surprised it had taken her so long to come around to the idea that the ties with House were better broken for her own good. Some bridges really should be burned.

Cameron didn't reply as she put the box containing everything from her desk into the backseat of her sister's Lexus SUV. Kate was always one for turning heads, and her car was spotless. Despite the fact that she was possibly one of the most hands-on mums Cameron knew, her car was still immaculate. She didn't know how her older sister managed it, and shook her head as Kate pulled out of the parking lot.

Sensing the tension in the younger woman's whole posture, Kate chose not to ask how 'finally resigning' had gone. She couldn't stand House, personally, but she knew it had to be hard if Cameron was in love with the guy, to finally accept that some things just weren't meant to be.

The shrill ringing of a cell phone broke through the dense silence and Cameron fumbled for it with a sigh. Finding it was hers and seeing that it was Danny's cell phone calling, she frowned, wondering what was so important that it couldn't wait until she got back in less than five minutes.

"Dan, yeah it's me…She's…what?! Oh my God…yeah w-we'll meet you there."

She'd barely hung up the phone before Kate swerved into a U-turn and headed back to the hospital. The panic in her sister's voice had made her stomach turn in knots and she didn't even have to be told where to go.

"What's happening, is Danny alright?"

Allison had a hand covering her mouth, clearly trying to contain her panic, and when she spoke her voice was shaking.

"It's not Danny, it's Faith. Sh-she's passed out. He said she spiked a fever about five minutes ago for no apparent reason. He's on the way to the hospital with her"

---

When they arrived, it was a blur of faces and fear. Cameron shoved past a few people in the lobby of the ER, wondering why she'd never noticed it was this crowded down here before. But she never went down to the ER, so why would she have noticed that? Diagnostics was pretty much dead – excuse the pun – compared to the bustle of the busy ER. Babies were crying, various people were coughing and spluttering, and one young couple who had obviously been in the midst of getting married were sitting huddled together in the corner, the groom holding a blood-drenched towel to a gash on his bride's head. As if that wasn't enough, someone was hysterically trying to get the attention of the already-hassled ER doctors. It was chaos. And Cameron's passing thought was that she was sure glad she didn't work in the ER. But her attention immediately focused on her daughter as she saw Danny, a terrified look on his face, a few hundred metres away clutching Faith to him as some nurses hurried over to help. Charlie was crying in his carry-chair, upset by the panic he had suddenly been whipped up into.

"That's my little girl! L-let me through, I'm a doctor!"

Cameron charged through the masses of people waiting to be seen, who all yelled and protested to her pushing. Her heart was hammering in her chest, both adrenaline and blind fear surging through her as she tried to control herself enough to calmly get to Faith and Danny.

As she reached them, Faith's tiny body began to shake and Cameron went into doctor-mode. The nurse, who recognised her, helped Cameron by clearing a bed and instantly moving Faith onto it. Cameron pulled off her little girl's dress and turned her onto her side.

"It's a febrile seizure, she's gotta be 101 at least."

She wasn't sure how her voice sounded so steady and calm when she felt far from it. As painful and difficult as it was, she knew the only thing she could do was let Faith ride it out. Keeping a close eye on her breathing, but careful not to restrict her daughter's alarming movements, Cameron counted the seconds. Kate was stood with Danny, both stood beside Cameron in silent support.

After a few endless minutes that seemed to last an eternity, Faith's jerky movements began to dissipate until the little girl was completely still, in a deep sleep that did nothing to ease the panic.

Checking the baby's body, Cameron felt her heart sink as she caught sight of the rash that could only have developed after 8am. It had definitely not been there earlier; otherwise Cameron would have noticed it.

Nothing was ever easy. She'd resigned less than half an hour ago and here she was, rushed back to Princeton-Plainsboro on completely different terms.

---

She wasn't used to being on the receiving end of all of this. She hated the helpless feeling of her daughter being taken away from her once the seizure had stopped, as her own former co-workers – sort of, the ER staff were still co-workers even if she hadn't worked there – began their routine tests to tell her if there was any serious underlying reason Faith had seized and developed a rash.

Wrapping her arms around herself, in some kind of symbolic effort to protect herself from any more heartache, Cameron paced the waiting room as she counted the minutes that passed until they came back with any news. Kate was sat watching her, knowing better than to try and calm her sister down. It would only end in hysterical yelling and tears. And that wouldn't help anyone. She and Danny exchanged worried glances as Cameron stopped pacing and spoke, rapid-fire and anxious.

"They'll test for meningitis, any infections and probably autoimmune disorders…they haven't even taken a full clinical history -"

"Ally, they know what they're doing. You know that, I know that. She had her check up last month, they'll have the files from then. Has anything changed since?"

Reluctantly, Allison shook her head. She knew Kate was right, as always. She was the rational one; the one who had the frustrating ability to be calm no matter what the situation. She remembered ten years ago when Kate's daughter Annaleise had developed a rash and the doctors had been quick to query meningitis. Luckily it hadn't been though, and it turned out she was just allergic to pineapple. Throughout that whole ordeal, Kate had been the epitome of calm. Whilst her husband was panicking and coming up with a dozen different scenarios, Kate had sat calmly, distracting their twins Isaac and Aiden who had been too young to really know what was happening.

"Dr. Cameron?"

Cameron immediately turned to find Brenda – whom she couldn't fail to recognise after apologising to her for House so many times after a particularly rude comment was aimed the nurse's way – and silently pleaded that everything was fine and Faith was just allergic to something, praying her niece's past experience that mimicked this would be repeated in Faith's outcome.

"We've referred Faith upstairs for further tests," and that's when the spark of hope she'd been keeping alive was snuffed out, her legs going weak as Brenda continued, "We've done a CSF and sedated her but thankfully it doesn't look like it's meningitis. We haven't ruled out an infection yet. If you want to see her, she's upstairs in Paeds…we can change the attending right away if you like, but at the moment she's under Dr. House…"

As if her day couldn't get any worse. All hopes of completely avoiding seeing House again were now gone. And the sensitive nature of her child's health would do nothing to stop him laying the cold sarcasm on thick and heavy, that was one thing she was sure of. But at the same time, she knew House was the best doctor the hospital had…choosing another attending just to prevent contact with him a) would risk her daughter's life on the premise of her difficult history with House and b) would not guarantee that he wouldn't seek her out once he found out she was back here anyway. She simply couldn't get away from him.

---

"Didn't you supposedly just 'leave'? After that big grand exit, you've kind ruined the effect. Couldn't stay away for more than a minute, Cameron?"

She'd expected the tormenting, the jabs at her apparent inability to actually leave for good no matter how many times she 'resigned'. It was getting tired now.

But she was in no mood or state of mind to humour him. In this scenario she was the parent, not the doctor. And being qualified as such in no way helped her right now, because she wouldn't be allowed to work on Faith's case even if she attempted it. And the worst part was, she knew the stages House would be going through on that white board in the office, with Wilson and Foreman and her own look-alike who was still hanging around. Chase was disallowed access to the case too. After all, he was Faith's father, and it didn't matter what the technicalities were.

In her mind she could see so clearly the symptoms she knew would be scrawled on that white board. But as the parent, on the opposite side of it all to where she was used to being, she couldn't be objective. Every possible diagnosis she came up with, mentally linking to the symptoms in her mind, she discounted simply because she couldn't bear the thought that this could all end up being fatal.

But that wasn't how life worked. Just because she refused to accept one of the fatal causes could be the diagnosis, it didn't mean she really could discount it. And that scared the hell out of her. She was suddenly stripped of all her training and medical knowledge accumulated through the years, until she was pure and simply a mother terrified of losing her child.

---

"It's not lupus, even though you probably already knew that, and we did a screen for routine ANA to rule out common auto-immunes. She's on the higher end of normal for her LFT and we'll keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't increase. C-reactive protein was relatively normal too so no infection, and cultures haven't been very helpful yet either."

His voice cutting through the quiet startled Cameron and she stood up, turning to face him. His lack of sarcasm somewhat surprised her but she decided not to question it. Faith was in her own room, attached to a feeding tube and under mild sedation whilst they carried out their battery of tests. And Cameron hadn't left her daughter's side in the past six hours.

It was difficult to ascertain new symptoms related to whatever this could be, from symptoms developed from birth defects, on a child who was already partially brain damaged from birth and had barely pulled through everything else that had already happened to her in the short six months of her life.

Cameron hadn't been crying, but House could see the anguish in her eyes and the tears she hadn't yet allowed to fall. He had to look away. He hated it when she got emotional, whatever the cause, because he never knew how to handle her. His instincts told him not to change in any way, to dish out the sarcasm and snark he was so used to throwing at her…but at the same time, part of him that he fought back fiercely, just wanted to make it all stop. He wanted to have the emotional capacity and strength to wrap her up in his arms and prevent anything else like this from slowly breaking her down. But he discounted that notion quickly, mentally scoffing at himself for such pathetic thoughts. Instead, he avoided eye contact and told her the facts and nothing else.

She needed more, but he couldn't give it. She needed that reassurance that every mother needed when her child was rushed in to hospital. She simply needed him. But she wasn't stupid enough to think she'd win this one. She'd given up now. After the various times she'd tried and failed, and even worse when she tried and actually found they made progress…only for them to backtrack the next day. It was messing with her head too much.

But something still seemed to be keeping her in Princeton. Every time she walked out, told him she was gone for good, something pulled her back, whether those circumstances where in her control or not. When she'd finally been all set to really leave, her own child dragged her back and suddenly she was trapped again. She couldn't break the chain that seemingly kept her within a certain distance from House.

He was stood awkwardly between her and the door and when she made no move to reply other than to nod her head, he shuffled closer to the door, about to make his escape.

"Thank you. I feel better knowing you're on this case…"

She didn't know how to say it without sounding pathetic to him, and her gaze drifted up to meet his slowly. He gave a short nod in acceptance of her thanks, before leaving without another word.

It didn't take long before Chase awkwardly slid open the door, his unease clear from the square set of his shoulders. She glanced back at him from her seat next to the crib and forced a small smile of greeting. He had every right to be there, Faith being his child as well, but to Cameron it was clear that he'd been waiting until House had left to enter the room.

He slowly walked over to her, reaching out and squeezing her arm, gently pulling her up to stand and wrapping his arms around her. His weren't the arms she so desperately wanted around her right now, but they'd do. She let the tears that had been building up fall from her eyes as she buried her face into his shoulder. She was extracting comfort wherever she could get it. Kate and Stella had given her a bit of time alone with Faith but had promised to return later.

With too much time and too much silence forcing too many thoughts to bombard her mind, she was grateful for at least someone to act as her outlet, other than her sisters. He was trying to be soothing, rubbing circles on her back and keeping his arms tightly around her, but all she could think of was how much Faith had been through. And by proxy, how much she had been through alongside her.

Just as her tears were slowly subsiding, the monitors began to beep with increasing speed and Faith's sharp cries shattered the silence of the room. Cameron pulled back from Chase's embrace and their instincts took over. Ignoring the fact that they'd been banned from being on their daughter's case, they were both still doctors and to act immediately was a response instilled in both of them out of their conscious control.

"O2 sats have dropped, heart rate increasing…"

Chase immediately put the oxygen mask over Faith's mouth, even as the little girl struggled against it. After a moment the sats began to rise again, but Faith was still crying. Her eyes were moving rapidly and this only served to panic the little girl more. She was partially blind as it was, thanks to a difficult birth and further difficulties following it.

"Sh-she's got nystagmus. And that's a pain cry, Chase," at his dubious glance she felt the need to back herself up, "I know her cries. I might just sound like a paranoid mother but I _know_ her cries, ok? Six months of hearing them kinda makes me an expert. The last time she cried like that she'd crawled for the first time and gone headfirst into the coffee table."

The memory made her smile sadly and Chase felt a pang of guilt and hurt that he'd missed that. Cameron had told him he could be involved with Faith if he wanted to be, but had made it perfectly clear that she wouldn't be part of the family package. Their relationship was over and having a child together didn't mean they could try again. She didn't want it. And he'd had to accept that. As much as he wanted to get to know his little girl, it was still too awkward between himself and Cameron. Maybe when things had fully settled between them, when Faith was a little bit older, he could start being more involved.

But right now she had her sister and Danny there to help her. If they hadn't been around, he would have stepped up to help her, but when he would most likely feel like a useless third wheel, he'd rather not cause the extra tension. And he still tensed when Danny was around too. He couldn't help the possessive instinct that surged through him when he caught one of the lingering looks Danny had trained on Cameron. But he had to keep reminding himself that she simply wasn't his anymore. Danny was a good father to Charlie, a good, constant male presence in Faith's life and a good friend to Cameron, so what more could he hope for, for her?

Still, missing moments like Faith's first smile, her first word, her first step…they were things he'd never be able to treasure the memory of and it saddened him. It made him wish that things could have been different for them; that he and Cameron could have tried harder to work things out. But it never really stood a chance anyway. He saw the way she still looked at House, and deep down he knew she'd never really loved him. What was the use in trapping her in a relationship she'd only end up resenting?

---

"So we add 'difficulty breathing' and 'nystagmus' to the board. Any suggestions, duckies? Oh and mommy is _certain_ her little sweetheart's crying indicates pain."

The tone of his voice clearly scathing, House leaned heavily on his cane, keeping his eyes trained on the marred white board before him, symptoms scrawled onto its surface and mocking him with promises of hidden answers. A diagnosis that he _needed_ this time. This patient should be just another face in the crowd, another sick baby whining and taking up time he could be spending dodging clinic hours and tormenting Cuddy…but it mattered this time. The outcome mattered because _Cameron_ mattered.

Foreman and Wilson exchanged quick glances, the token brunette across the table from them oblivious to their instant analysis of their boss. Dr. Kendall was a well-qualified Immunologist but no one could ignore that her speciality was not the only resemblance between Kendall and Cameron. Foreman had pulled House up on it straight away when he found out who'd been hired to cover Cameron's maternity leave. Not that House had listened or cared. He'd sharply and succinctly said who he hired was not up to Foreman, and so what if he was replacing lobby art with lobby art? It wasn't as if Kendall was going to be around very long as it was, with Cameron being such a workaholic.

None of them had factored in that Kendall could end up being a permanent piece to adorn the Diagnostics floor. None of them had accounted for the fact that Cameron might _not_ return. So none of them had really bothered to get to know Kendall that well. She still felt like an outsider, trespassing in territory that someone else's presence still lingered in. But she was confident in her own abilities and her discomfort around House, unsure of how to handle his derisive and abrasively rude manner, didn't hinder her medical skills.

"It could be Wallenberg's."

Kendall pointed out. Tilting his head to the side, House continued to look at the board, tapping the pen incessantly on the metallic rim as his mind whirred.

"It could be Wall-"

"I heard you."

House cut her off sharply as she began to repeat her suggestion, and she quickly closed her mouth, dropping her gaze to the table. Foreman and Wilson barely blinked. To them, such discourteous interruption and blatant disregard for her idea was nothing out of the ordinary. They were used to it. She, however, was not. Over the months that Cameron had been away she'd grown more accustomed to it, mostly out of necessity to refrain from either slapping him or bursting into tears, but he still delivered stinging emotional backhands quite often. She didn't know what she was supposed to have done to get this kind of treatment right from the get-go, and she'd been so very close to resigning so many times already, but she was still standing and determined not to let him beat her.

"Well it'd explain the nystagmus _and_ the difficulty breathing. Autoimmune problems would also account for the rash she presented with."

"But you're an immunologist, so you _are_ going to cry 'autoimmune!' The kid's already screwed up from a…_difficult_ pregnancy and birth. Add an autoimmune to the list and they'd have chucked her away with the trash long ago if this was Nazi Germany."

Kendall didn't know the entire case notes painfully by heart like the others did. She wasn't aware of who Faith's mother was in relation to House and the rest of the team…and she certainly didn't have any kind of clue as to the seriousness of what mother and child had been through, when House said '_difficult_ pregnancy'.

"Blood tests for D-Dimer and Coags, and I want an MRI on the littlest Cameron. Rule out pulmonary embolism and any other problems with the heart or clotting. Oh, and test the CSF again, it'll still be in the lab, but this time check for viral encephalitis or a subarachnoid. Go."

---

"How's she doing?"

Cameron looked up and managed to offer a weak smile to Danny as he slowly entered the room. The worry was as clear on his face as it was on hers. Over the months he'd become a kind of surrogate father to Faith, the only constant male figure in her life, in the same way that she had become the maternal figure for Charlie. Nothing had happened between Danny and Cameron, but there was always the subtext that they never quite got round to addressing. Cameron never seemed to recognise it existed, but he certainly felt it every single time.

He was careful, almost cautious, with her, still. After finding out about her ordeal months ago, she could tell he half expected her to freak out at any given moment. But she'd become a lot better at handling panic attacks now. She still had the medication at home, did she need it, but she'd so far managed to get three panic attacks under control without resorting to the drugs. That in itself made her feel much more confident in her ability to manage, and Danny backed her up every step of the way.

He'd witnessed a few of her near misses when it came to panic attacks. But he'd also watched her progression into controlling and dealing with them when they arose. He'd never admit it to her, but he'd definitely fallen hard for Allison Cameron. And as much as he thought he'd had it well hidden, Kate seemed to pick up on every little glance, every lingering hug and the way his smile would be that much brighter if she was the cause.

Sometimes, as sad and pathetic as it seemed to him, Danny would often find himself pretending there was something more than a very close friendship between them, imagining waking up beside her every morning and raising their kids together…a family. Just like he'd always dreamed. After Julianna, he'd been so sure he'd never love another woman like that again. She'd been his fire, his reason to get up in the morning. And what scared him was that gradually, almost undetected in its progress, he'd come to feel close to that with Cameron.

Every time he came close to bringing up the subject of 'maybe we should make this _something_', they got sidetracked, or he chickened out. There was never the perfect moment, and he needed it to be right.

When she'd mentioned to him that she was considering going back home to Wisconsin, he was sure part of his heart, whatever was left after Julianna died, had broken and he felt his stomach churn in a way he hadn't since waiting for news of Charlie's birth.

And what had terrified him even more was the fact that before he'd even thought about the implications, words had been passing his lips.

"We'll come with you. A new start for all of us would probably be the best thing in the world that we could do."

And she'd been just as shocked at him as he was at himself. She had been astounded that he would leave the little family he had in New Jersey, the secure job he loved, to move halfway across the country to a state he was completely unfamiliar with. But what struck him was how blind she was. It didn't even hit her that he'd move because of his feelings for her, because he couldn't bear to lose her.

"They're still testing her for whatever crazy diagnosis House comes up with-"

Danny sat beside her on the arm of the chair, his hand finding hers as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. She let out a shaky breath and returned the gesture, her eyes remaining on her daughter. It was almost becoming routine now that some terrifying ordeal would follow them around, and as Faith's monitor began to speed up again, Cameron jumped up, once again unable to separate doctor from mother. Faith's cheeks were red and she was hyperventilating, unable to breathe.

House, with Foreman and Kendall in tow, had just entered the room moments before the respiratory attack, and Foreman was intubating the six-month-old patient before House even had time to make a snarky comment about Danny's presence. It grated on him that the man was still a part of Cameron's life, but really he knew it was only down to his own shortcomings that Danny was sticking around.

"So we can add respiratory failure to our nice little list?"

He didn't even seem to care that things were getting more and more serious for Faith. The machine she'd been attached to was breathing for her and silent tears were streaking tracks down Cameron's cheeks. She couldn't bear to look, turning away to find Danny's arms already circling her, pulling her to him as though trying to protect her from it all. To anyone on the outside looking in, they appeared to be just another young couple terrified of losing their child.

House's face darkened and he tore his gaze from the two, jealousy coursing through him at Danny's ability to so easily show Cameron affection and comfort. She needed that, and he wasn't an affectionate kind of guy. She knew it, he knew it; hell, everyone knew it. Yet at this moment, when he actually felt the desire to hold her like that, he knew that the only way he could help ease that pain would be to solve this puzzle. And that was a win-win situation. He got to pour all his energy into a case, obsess about it without anyone so much as blinking, and he would be providing more relief to Cameron than Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Italian could with his affection and endless comforting words.

"Cameron, we need a kidney biopsy. I don't think I need to explain the ins and outs."

Cameron turned out of Danny's embrace, regarding House carefully through hazy, tear-filled eyes, and sighed softly, arms folded in her own self-preservative action.

"You're testing her renal functions on the basis of respiratory failure? What grounds do you have for me to agree to you taking a piece of my daughter's kidneys? 'Higher end of normal' LFT results don't indicate full-blown renal failure, House."

She sounded a lot stronger than he'd expected, though his surprise was contained well.

"And if her DNA was 'higher end of normal' she'd be a dolphin. Let me do this."

He kept an intense gaze trained on her, silently asking why she felt a need to ask, when half of his ideas were seemingly unfounded yet always yielded some kind of answers. And she'd always trusted him before, so why should that change now? Because this time the patient was her own daughter? That should be more of a reason for her to trust him implicitly, in his mind. But on the other hand, the fact that this was her daughter and not some random patient played the main role in why she was questioning him. And as much as he had no clue what unconditional protective love was like to experience, he could understand what she must be feeling.

Defeated, her shoulders slumped and she nodded wearily, the strain of it all weighing heavy on her.

"Just…find out what's wrong with her, House. _Please_ don't let this be one of the puzzles that you can't fix…"

He broke his gaze away from her, the desperation in her voice slicing through him. His eyes flickered to rest on the baby, attached to various different monitors, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with the ventilator.

"We'll do a CT as well, just to rule out possible stroke."

---

"I just need some reassurance on this one. I need to hear from someone else that I'm doing the right thing."

Cameron didn't even say hello as she entered Wilson's office, startling him a little as the door flew open in her wake. Her eyes were still red and her cheeks damp from anxious tears but she didn't care. She was past the point of being bothered if mascara was staining her cheeks.

Wilson slowly put his pen down; pushing aside the files he was working on and folding his hands atop the desk. Even without an explanation, he understood. He'd heard Cameron's situation already. Word travelled faster than disease in this hospital after all. He gestured to his sofa and Cameron didn't hesitate, closing the door and making her way to the welcoming comfort of the sofa and dropping heavily down onto it, as though all the weight in the world was on her shoulders and she was struggling to carry it.

Pausing a moment to study the understandable fear and worry on Cameron's face, torment playing over her features, he made his way round his desk and sat beside her. She immediately crumbled, covering her face with her hands as she rode out the emotions. They came in waves, crescendos of blinding fear swirling beneath the surface that she usually managed to keep behind the mask she'd learned to perfect over the years.

He reached for her, arms circling her as her tiny body trembled, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back as Chase had done earlier, but Wilson was less awkward with the action, no uneasy, still-raw history creating a canyon between them. He was attempting to comfort in the only way he could right now. She needed to let it out before she could reasonably talk things through.

As her sobs subsided, she managed a grateful smile as he let go of her. Grasping her hand, he looked earnestly back at her and spoke carefully.

"You're doing the right thing. House is brilliant, and you know that as well as anyone. _Better _than anyone in fact. If he has some whacked out idea…just let him run with it. Try to be objective, Cameron. I know that's nearly impossible when it's your own child, but if you _can_ separate medical from personal, you'll get through this. And Faith is going to get through it. After everything you've both been through already, you've seen how strong she is. She takes after her mother on that one."

He smiled softly, giving her hand a squeeze and she sighed with a weariness she'd accrued over the past year of continual and taunting hardship. It just seemed to be one thing after the other.

"It's like it's not enough that she's partially blind and brain damaged…things just keep…happening. And I feel completely useless. What kind of mother am I if I can't even protect my child after everything she's already suffered because of me?"

She knew her thoughts weren't rational. But she was going through the stages. She'd already been through denial long ago. She'd had to get past that quickly. And then the anger had assaulted her. Why _her_? Why did everything go wrong in her life? What had she ever done that was so bad? And if she really was such a bad person, why did House constantly shoot her down for being 'too nice'? She hadn't been able to answer her own questions, and nobody had simply handed the answers over. It wasn't that simple.

Guilt had accompanied the anger and she was riding this out as best she could. It was lucid in its passing, as though she knew which stage she was in, as though she could see the light at the end of each stage's tunnel. Right now, she was stuck in the terrible limbo of anger and despair. There was nothing she could physically do to help Faith. Banned from involvement in her daughter's case for ethics sake (though since when did House care about ethics?) all she could do was stand and watch. Helpless on the sidelines. The anger and despair were tearing her apart and she was simply praying for acceptance to arrive soon.

"You know none of this is your fault, Cameron. I don't even need to tell you that, because deep down you know that _none_ of what you went through was in any way down to you. And none of what's happened to Faith is your fault either."

She was staring absently out of the window, as though her eyes were trained on some invisible angel perched high on a cloud, watching over everything and keeping Faith from any more harm.

"Every time…" her voice hitched and she swallowed the lump in her throat, "Every time I try to leave this place…something always drags me back. I _need_ to get away from here."

There was an edge to her voice, a quiet and simmering determination that was blurred and yet sharpened at the same time by the current anguish she was drowning in. He regarded her carefully.

"The hurt won't just go away because you leave, y'know. You'll still be a single mom and Faith will still have the problems she has-"

"I've already had this lecture, Wilson. 'At least everyone here knows; at least you don't have to pretend with us; at least we _know _you'. I know how that song goes; I've heard it plenty. But if I go, I won't have the constant reminder of…how it came to this. I'll have people around me who actually do give a damn without being clouded by the fact that I was raped,"

There was a flat edge to her voice, as though she was distancing herself from her words to make them hurt her less.

"No offence, that wasn't directed at you. I get the sympathetic looks and the 'how are you today, Dr. Cameron?' as though they expect me to break down right in front of them. I know they mean well, but it tears me down a bit every time I feel the stares and every time I hear the whispers and the rumours of nurses betting on how long it'll be before I turn up to work with a semi-automatic and take everyone out. I _need_ to get out of this place. And I need to be away from…him. Too much has happened and there's too much we can't get past. It's better if I just give up this fight."

Wilson frowned. House hadn't mentioned anything to him about Cameron; at least not in the past few weeks. When she'd first been found after…the incident (as they tactfully referred to it as now), he'd been sure House was on the verge of finally confronting his feelings for Cameron. In fact, that had been the Bet of the Month with the nurses. Everyone had been sure he'd crack and finally some kind of admission would slip from him, one secret out of many to finally see the light. But they hadn't gained any kind of gratification with their bet and it was still unruled. If anything had ever happened, the nurses were still in the dark, much to their annoyance. Wilson had the nagging feeling Stacy's presence had made his walls instinctively go up again.

So for him to now hear that some of the rumours surging through the gossip mill might have had some actual relevance and truth shocked Wilson. The way she'd said it, it definitely sounded as though something had happened between her and House. So why hadn't House told him? It wasn't something he'd usually keep from his best friend. Unless it meant more to him than he would ever have been willing to admit.

"House…already tried to convince me to stay, in his special way that comes out more as a string of insults. I shot him down. He backed off. I was finally leaving, for real and not just as an idle threat, and…this happens."

"Well, I think he's right. You shouldn't leave. You think this is a rational choice, you think the worst is over. And then, six months later you look back and you realize…you didn't know what you were doing."

She remained quiet for a moment, her eyes holding his as she searched for some kind of comfort that he was withholding right now.

"Are you saying this pain won't go away?"

"It might get easier to handle. With time everything does. But it won't be in two months, probably not in two years. Sure, you'll have your sisters, your parents…that _might_ help. Then again it might not. You could talk to them, maybe that will help. I mean, they'll understand, with everything you've gone through, how hard it all is for you."

She dropped her gaze, guilt simmering beneath a weary surface. He looked at her incredulously.

"They don't know? You haven't _told_ them? Cameron, they're your _family-_"

"And you don't know what my family are like!" Her voice was shrill and he could tell this was a touchy subject. He didn't know why and now probably wasn't the best time to go into it, "My family don't _talk_ about problems. We repress it all and we don't ever consider therapy because, well, why tell a stranger your problems when you can use them to hurt the ones you have the problems with?!"

There was a deafening silence for a moment, Cameron's ragged intakes of breath the only sound in the room breaking the tension. Wilson finally met her eyes. He decided to steer that subject away from her outburst and back to the main issue.

"But the pain of raising a brain damaged and blind child isn't going to go away, and you need your family to help you through it if you're going to leave here. If they don't know why Faith's got the problems she has, how can they really help you? What's not going to change is how hard it is, if they know or not, whether you leave or not. What's not going to change is how you feel when you look at her and remember everything that's happened. You can live round the corner, or you can live five hundred miles from here…that won't alter your memories. Something will always remind you and trigger them."

He looked away, training his eyes on the files on his desk. This wasn't a pleasant conversation. But it had to be said.

"I see this every week, Cameron. I diagnose terminal cancer and I see the stages. I see the kind of pain, anger, resentment, and fear in you that I see in them. Some of them try to run. But you can't outrun this. This is like _your_ cancer. It's not going to kill you, but it's causing the same symptoms."

"I-I need to do _something_."

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat back again and refusing the move.

"Then do it. But don't think it's the right choice, because…there isn't one."

---

"What are the results?"

"Are you her parent? No. I'm not discussing this with you. Where's Cameron?"

House had entered Faith's room to find Danny anxiously sat on the chair, hands clasped in front of him as he rested his elbows on his knees. Charlie was fast asleep in his carry-chair beside his father, looking as though not even an atom bomb exploding could wake him up. As the door was pushed open, Danny rose to his feet; an expectant and hopeful look on his face. He'd been there for two hours now and was as eager for any news as Cameron was.

"Allison just stepped out about a quarter of an hour ago. She should be back in a minute," he frowned, looking back at Faith and then finding House's gaze again, "I'm practically her father, why can't you tell me what's going on?"

This caused a surge of contempt to course through House and he stepped forward, into Danny's personal space. He didn't like the guy, never had. And he didn't like the way he was apparently so close to Cameron that he considered himself 'practically Faith's father'. It grated too, how it struck him how much of a happy little family they appeared to be, with the two kids and the shared concern.

"She's _not_ your kid and Cameron's not _yours _either. Results are _confidential_. You're not suddenly granted a free pass just because you're hot for the kid's mom."

Danny was taken aback by the venom in House's voice, and his eyes widened as the words sank in. It suddenly occurred to him that he clearly wasn't the only one who was 'hot for' Cameron, as House had so nicely put it. There were definitely some tacit feelings hidden underneath the acerbic surface of this man and he couldn't help but wonder if he had something to do with why Cameron had suddenly wanted to pack up and leave so quickly. Had something happened between them? That thought shouldered its way through Danny's mind and caused a feeling of disquiet to settle over him.

He'd seen them interact before and, though he'd never really pinpointed it then, never having any reason to think there was more than just a professional relationship between them, he distinctly remembered the awkward ease they had between them, the tense discernment that they shared, which only they could relate to and everyone else outside their invisible realm was oblivious to it until it was pointed out. It was a kind of strained understanding of boundaries and perhaps emotions that ran deeper than what they would allow themselves to acknowledge.

"Dr. House...I don't know what you think is going on, but I'm not insinuating that Allison and I are...involved. We're very close, but...there's nothing else going on," he said it carefully, trying to hide the strain in his voice that would give away how much he so wished there _was_ something going on with her.

House steadied an intense gaze on him for a few endless moments and Danny could almost see the wheels in his head turning. But no emotion passed across his face to betray whatever he'd concluded.

It was that moment that Cameron chose to reappear, her mouth opened to speak as she walked through the door, but closing instantly as she saw the two men, toe-to-toe, in the middle of the room. She shot House a warning glance, hoping he hadn't already been too abusive. Danny looked a mixture of surprised and confused, which made Cameron wonder what exactly was going on.

"House."

Her tone clearly signalled that she was in no mood for any abrasive or sarcastic behaviour from him. He said nothing and not even a flicker of feeling passed over his features as he took a step back from Danny. But that was enough for Cameron and she sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm assuming you're here with some results? Probably results that say her renal function has _nothing _to do with this."

There was a determined capability behind her weariness that belied a fragile surface, which made her look as though she would break at any second. But she never did. She always fought on, never backed down. She had an inner strength that even House admired...silently, of course.

He looked over at the child sleeping, breathing with the aid of the ventilator, before finding her eyes again. He wouldn't tell her she was right...because she wasn't. After the respiratory attack earlier, it hadn't been good news. Faith had developed an arrhythmia, so he'd sent Kendall off to check ECGs and chest X-rays of the child. The liver functions had increased again and he was puzzling the pieces together slowly but surely.

They were keeping an eye on her heart too, which is why they'd almost anticipated the cardiac arrest that screamed through the air and shattered the tension between Danny, House and Cameron. Danny held Cameron back, keeping her enough distance away from the bed that she was straining to be closer to her daughter. But there was no good she could do crowding the bed. Nurses had rushed in and House was delivering shocks via the defibs. It was painful to watch, the baby's body jerking helplessly as the electrical currents passed through her.

It was at the point when they were sure they'd lost her, when one last shock suddenly silenced the room for a moment and the heart monitor showed a relatively normal heartbeat.

Cameron almost collapsed with relief, grateful that Danny was supporting her as her legs gave way. She'd been so terrifyingly close to losing her child and the thought made her dizzy. House replaced the defibrillators, leaving the nurses to tend to the baby as he turned back to Cameron.

"We'll check for clots, make sure that won't keep happening. Can't be much fun to nearly die. If it is a clot we'll go in and make sure it's just a slow bus in the centre lane and not a ten-car pileup-"

Danny looked utterly baffled by the metaphor but Cameron distinctly remembered him using that one before. As she kept her gaze on him, the look dawned on his face that she knew very well. Realisation. Her heart skipped a beat and she pulled out of Danny's arms, moving closer to House, standing right in front of him with eyes full of the naïve hope that he could still save the world. Or, at least, her world.

But he didn't give her an explanation; limping towards the door with that look of sheer single-mindedness he had when he knew he'd cracked it. Now she was just praying it wouldn't be something terminal.

---

"She has Reye's Syndrome."

Kendall had been the one sent to deliver the news and Cameron almost felt sorry for her. She'd been thrown right into the middle of this and had no clue of anything preceding her arrival. All she knew was that Faith wasn't just any patient and Cameron meant something to all of them, perhaps most significantly to House, despite the fact that he'd never verbally acknowledged it, at least not in Kendall's presence.

Cameron's hands covered her mouth as she took in what she was being told. She'd been a doctor longer than Kendall had and she didn't need Reye's Syndrome explaining to her, but she shockwaves that were rippling through her caused her to sit silently as Kendall spoke.

"-We looked at her full body scans again and when we'd re-tested her brain we'd noticed mild encephalopathy. That kept increasing but we've managed to stem the encephalitis and luckily we slowed it in time. Her heart wasn't throwing clots like we'd initially thought but her brain was. A clot had caused the seizures earlier. The first seizure was febrile but after that the clots caused a lot of the symptoms. Dr. Cameron...I know you're a doctor so I don't need to explain this but...there's no definitive cure for this. There are treatments, and we've already started her on intravenous IV-G solution and fluids. With those she should recover brilliantly, but along with her other...problems..."

"I understand."

Her calm was unnerving. She'd even unsettled herself with how steady her voice came out, when inside she was slowly breaking, piece by piece. Danny was stood beside the chair, squeezing her shoulder supportively, as Kate and Stella stood at the end of Faith's bed, silently taking in the news.

After Kendall left, the four adults remained silent, the diagnosis still hanging in the air between them, punctuated by the steady beeping from Faith's heart monitor.

"We'll give you some time with her, Ally."

Kate said softly, finally dragging them back to their harsh reality. Danny and Stella both nodded, cautiously making their way toward the door as Cameron just stared into space, her elbows resting on her knees. She didn't even seem to hear them, their words swimming through her mind but seeming incoherent to her right now.

Alone in the room with just her daughter, Cameron stood on shaking legs and leaned heavily on the child's bed, looking down with shining eyes at the little girl sleeping peacefully. They'd never had it easy and it didn't look as if they ever would.

Every second in this place seemed to force upon them another affliction of cruelty. It was suffocating her, reminding her with each passing second that this was her life now and no matter what she did, no matter how 'nice' she was, the brunt of a cold world seemed to fall upon her and her daughter.

But perhaps Wilson was right. After all, she couldn't talk to her parents about what had happened to her, or Faith. She'd be hiding and dodging questions and when the truth finally came out, which it would eventually if she was around her very persuasive and forceful mother long enough, then it would only make things ten times worse.

And there it was, the eternal tug-of-war her emotions were raging on her every minute of the day. It was only intensified by the fact that she'd almost lost her child in this mess.

At least here she had Danny. Even when her sisters left to finally return to their families at home, he'd still be here. But then again he'd been willing to move with her. Though, what good would that do if they were both hiding her secret? The godforsaken secret that would tear her family apart. She couldn't ask that of Danny. She had no right.

So, maybe for now she would stay. Maybe for now she could try to sort the tatters of her life out and then when things were settled down she could move back home, with Danny and Charlie too. After all, if she had a man with her, it would certainly distract her mother enough for incessant questions to be sidetracked for a little while. If she took home a man who _wasn't_ visibly and overtly 'damaged' in some way, that would definitely deflect her mother's interrogation for a while.

And once again here she was, back at square one. She was staying in Princeton. But she made a silent vow to herself, that if one more thing tipped the scales, she was gone. She was leaving and not even Wilson's arguments could sway her. That was a reasonable compromise, right?


	21. Epilogue Alternate Ending

Hey guys

Final chapter is here, and I've changed the ending. I had two alternate endings and I originally posted the other, but after seeing your views, I'm going to try this ending and see how you like this instead. I hate ending my fics, because I always feel there was another route that could have been taken. I tend to write all the routes and see which fits.

Comments are love

Peace and cheers  
Amylia

-x-

--------------------S-T-O-L-E-N---C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A--------------------

**Chapter Twenty-One – Epilogue**

_Two Months Later_

The first thing Cameron did when she got home was to collect together the majority of the baby's closet, doing the same with her own. Kate had been more than happy to comply and accommodate her little sister's plans, pleased that Cameron had felt able to accept help, so that was that sorted.

Cameron had tears in her eyes as she grabbed the baby toys hurriedly from the floor and threw them harshly into the bag she was clutching. Emotions were so hard to control when she felt like she was walking a tightrope and the thread she was precariously dancing on was about to snap.

She sensed the stirring of doubt in her stomach, causing her to pause in her motions. She'd been _so_ sure, so determined that this was the right thing to do. She'd agonised over it two months ago and, after this, the final straw, she'd finally made up her mind to go through with the promise she'd made to herself back then. A particularly heated argument with House this afternoon had added to her list of sensible reasoning 'why I should leave'.

She remembered thanking God that it was a Friday afternoon. She had realised that the final thing to tip the balance had actually come around. And she was not willing to see this one through. Adam Costello had been let out on bail pending trial.

She couldn't believe they weren't keeping him locked up as he awaited what, she'd been sure, would be a unanimous 'guilty' verdict. But his lawyer had fought well, continually reminding the judge that it had been a 'first offence' – as though that granted him a 'get out of jail free, until the trial day' pass.

She'd not been able to sleep properly since she'd found out three days ago. Every time she closed her eyes, she was dragged back to the previous year, where the memories were once again new; and she'd wake up in a cold sweat, hearing her screams resounding off the four walls, taunting her. Faith's crying from the next room at being woken so suddenly by her mother was somewhat comforting to Cameron, assuring her it was over and she was not going back to those times, whilst at the same time, her daughter's crying only sharpened the edges of the nightmare, reminding her that it really did happen.

So, getting away from it all to find a safe haven far away from the nightmares surrounding her, reminding her of what she'd been through and what she was left with, was a good idea in her mind.

The phone on the table was an incessant reminder of what she had to do. And there was no point in putting it off. Sighing, she abandoned the rest of the toys dotted around and retrieved the phone. She had to call Jefferson. It gave her butterflies in her stomach, and not the pleasant kind. Once she'd made this call, there was no turning back. They'd left her an open-ended offer last time, had said that if she was interested at a later date to give them a call. So after the fight with House a few weeks previous she'd called them to check if a job was still available.

They'd been disappointed last time when she'd 'unaccepted' their job offer and gone running back to House. All because he'd agreed to one date, which had been so disastrous she'd pushed it from her mind long ago. Now though, he wouldn't be getting another chance. She wouldn't give into him if he tried to stop her this time. He'd had his chances, and she was all out of trust. Especially with _this_. She couldn't even trust the law to protect her.

Maybe her personal subscription to 'Masochism Daily' had run out by the time she'd moved to Princeton all those years ago, so she'd had to renew it in some way – by falling in love with a man she knew would do nothing but hurt her. But what was the point in trying to give up her feelings for him, because she couldn't choose whom she fell in love with and if, or when, she fell _out_ of love with them.

After the call to Yule at Jefferson, who had been more than happy to hear she was once again interested in working for him and so asked her to start the following week, she continued her frenzied packing. She was just taking the essentials for now since she could always come back. She just needed _out_ right now. With their clothes and a few extra necessities packed in a handful of suitcases, she took them down and loaded them into her car and began to collect all the toys around the room.

That's when she heard the knock on the door and felt her heart drop. She knew who it was before she even opened it. That sound of wood-on-wood would always stay with her and it was the only knock she tended to hear nowadays. She also knew it would be all she'd ever hear. Even if he were out of her thoughts, out of her sight, a knock on a door would jolt her back to a place and a man she'd never forget.

Opening the door slowly, she didn't meet his gaze. He didn't say a word and that silently forced her to raise her eyes to his. The intense sensation that he could see right through her and into the depths of her soul rippled through her and she stepped back, trying to put distance where she needed it. Why was he here? Why now? As if leaving wasn't hard enough without having to justify herself.

"Bit unprofessional to storm out in the middle of a working day, Cameron."

His tone was flat, eyes dancing with the sarcasm that dripped from his every word. Pressing her lips together to prevent any colourful language from passing between them with her young daughter sitting playing with blocks just a few metres away, she remained silent.

"Also a bit childish to give me the silent treatment," he added and she could feel the bubbles of anger swelling beneath her serene surface.

He knew he was pushing her buttons, and he was enjoying it. Making her angry had always been one of his most enjoyable past times. He loved how she flushed deeply from her cheeks down her neck, and he had often fantasised about trailing his tongue down her throat and tasting that blush as it travelled downwards. He'd also wondered how far it travelled, and that led to all sorts of R-rated images stirring his overactive imagination. Now, he was standing outside her apartment, watching her carefully as she tried to rein her emotions.

"I don't have time for your games, House. And I won't be coming back, so you don't have to worry about me 'storming out' again."

She went to close the door but he was quick. His cane was instantly wedged between the frame and the door, and with one jerk, he shoved the door open, causing her to step back in mild surprise at his forceful actions. She should have known it wasn't going to be so easy to get rid of him. Narrowing her eyes and folding her arms, she waited for the onslaught of slicing questions and unrelenting sardonic quips as his eyes travelled around her now-rather-bare living room. Raising his eyebrows, he met her gaze again.

"Going somewhere? I hear Tijuana is fun this time of-"

"I'm leaving."

He didn't look alarmed in any way and in all honesty she could understand that. After all, how many times had she said those exact words and a week later, they were back to where they'd started? Too many times was the answer. She'd managed to get as far as actually packing last time, but the apparently flimsy excuse of her daughter dying, along with all the other reasons on her list was just another cover for 'I'm not _really_ going to leave', in his eyes.

But this time, she really did mean it. There was nothing he could do to change her mind, mostly because he wasn't the _whole_ reason she was leaving this time. A part of it, yes, but not the whole reason. There were much more important reasons this time.

"I've accepted the offer with Yule at Jefferson. Again. I'm going living with Kate for a while."

"Unaccept it."

"And I'm somehow feeling a sense of déjà vu. No, this time I'm not going to surrender to your demands. I'm going."

"If I remember rightly, it wasn't _me_ doing the demanding. _You_ were the one demanding a date. What's it going to take this time? Sex?"

She blinked and saw the flicker of instant regret pass his face. A little too late, like always. It didn't take a genius to know she'd managed to get past the physical closeness barrier, but sex, even just the suggestion, shook her still. Or maybe it did. His gaze dropped to the floor, and she hoped it was because he was sorry his words had nearly assaulted her.

Choosing to let the question pass over her, not even gracing it with a biting response of her own, she turned away and resumed picking up toys, wondering how she was going to get him to accept her decision. Faith gurgled and cooed, carefree as she crawled around the floor aimlessly, following Cameron as she picked up toys, making it into a game as to who could pick the toy up first. Cameron had to smile at the child's obliviousness. If only she were so lucky.

He didn't say anything, but she could feel his eyes burning into her back and eventually, she sighed, straightened up, and turned back to face him, arms once again crossed in a defensive stance, one of the only forms of protection she had against him.

"I'm not going to pour my heart out to you, House, because it'll mean nothing. I'm leaving and that's it."

"I'm not the only reason this time though," he mused.

A sharp prick of alarm flickered inside her. The way he could read people so easily had always unnerved her, particularly when he applied his startling powers of observation and deduction to her. She felt exposed, vulnerable. Just where he liked her. She resisted eye contact, a long sigh drawing from her lips again.

"Don't try to apply Occam's razor or Hickam's dictum to me, House. It's not that simple. I'm not some patient for you to cure, so leave it alone."

He ignored her, shaking his head as she could almost see the wheels of thought turning in his mind.

"I might be the catalyst, and part of the cause, but there's something else too. You wouldn't make this kind of decision on a whim, not if you're dead-set on doing it. If Yule offered you that job again, they wouldn't do that on a whim either. You've been planning this, Cameron. So come on, what are the factors? I'm intrigued."

Deciding it might be easier to talk about this if she had a distraction, she turned to Faith, lifting her daughter onto her hip with ease and busying herself with fussing over her. Faith clearly wasn't very impressed at her games being interrupted and whined until Cameron put her down again. After a moment, with her eyes trained on the little girl happily tossing building blocks around, she finally raised her gaze to meet House's.

"Faith almost died two months ago, he's out on bail and you're an ass. I need to get out of here. Those are the factors. Now leave."

"Hold up, 'He's out on bail'? Adam?"

Hearing his name spoken aloud by someone other than herself created aftershocks and echoes she found hard to assimilate, so instead of trying to talk with a lump forming in her throat, she just nodded, making sure she had her back turned to him so he couldn't see the conflict in her eyes.

"This isn't all about you, ok? I _need_ to get away from here. I need to get _her _out of here." She watched her daughter and stopped herself from picking the child up again. "I'm not just thinking about me now, I have Faith to worry about too. It involves _caring_ about another human being, so I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Her bitter words left an equally acidic taste in her mouth. She harshly grabbed the last toy and her car keys off the counter top, picking Faith up again and settling the child comfortably on her hip as she made for the door.

"You'll have my letter on your desk on Monday-"

He grabbed her arm, just above her elbow, and she clenched. Her hand froze on the door handle as she couldn't help but watch the descent as his hand gently slid down to her wrist. Cameron swallowed painfully; never having thought it would be this hard. Her daughter was silent on her hip, sucking her thumb as she regarded House with innocent curiosity. It seemed that even an eight-month-old child could sense the tension crackling in the air.

"The hospital needs you, and… you can't leave. He can't get to you again, and you know that. Running away won't solve anything. Fight it."

"I don't have any damn fight left in me!"

Her voice was high and disquieting, bouncing off the walls containing them and echoing in both their minds, unsettling the baby who whined softly before falling quiet again. He still had hold of her wrist and she tried to pull it out of his grasp but he resisted the effort, keeping his eyes firmly on hers. The restraint rattled her somewhat and her breath hitched in her throat, her grip on her daughter tightening ever so slightly as she fought the panic that still came with any resistance on her body. She could see what he was trying to do. She was off her anxiety meds, and by managing to control the panic caused by his grip on her wrist, it proved she _could_ fight it.

"I-I don't _want_ to fight any more."

Her voice was weak as she amended her words, exposing the painful honesty beneath, tears brimming in her tired eyes as she fought to contain them behind a strong exterior. Trying once again to pull her hand free of his grasp, she felt like hitting him, punching his chest with her fist and letting all her tears flow freely, until she collapsed with exhaustion, until he caught her and didn't let her fall.

But it wasn't going to happen. She'd fall repeatedly and he'd never catch her. It was a vicious cycle they'd never break, and that was the harsh reality they silently accepted. She would have laughed at it all, if he weren't scaring her so badly.

She needed to get out of here. If he was trying to convince her to stay, his argument was flawed. By rousing her fears, she only felt the urge to run increase, and she finally wrenched her hand free, shooting him a withering glare before hurriedly grabbing the bag she'd placed by the door.

House followed close behind as she left the apartment, practically breathing down her neck as she locked the door behind them both and made her way down the corridor, trying her best to ignore the incessant step-thump behind her as he followed.

---

"When are you coming back?"

As she reached the car, Cameron turned and steadied an empty gaze on him for a long moment. Shaking her head somewhat sadly, she opened the passenger side door, lifted Faith off her hip and fastened her into the baby seat with what she hoped were steady hands. Finally, she shut the door and turned back to House.

"I don't know if I _am_ coming back, " she admitted, feeling a part of her die inside as she noticed the slight drop of his shoulders that she would have missed if she didn't know him so well, "I…_need_ to be away from here, away from you. And I'll have a job at Jefferson…so there's nothing here for me anymore."

And he knew he was losing her, again. Last time, there'd been some ray of hope – as much as he scoffed at the notion of hope – whereas this time, she was leaving of her own free will. And there was that determination in her eyes now too. He wasn't stupid, and he knew she was serious. She wouldn't back down on the premise of a date this time. He really was _losing _her, and he could almost feel her literally slipping through his fingers. He'd lost Stacy, and he was over that now, but he couldn't go through the same agony losing Cameron just because his pride was too stubborn to realise a good thing when it was standing right in front of him.

She was the only one who really _knew_ him – apart from Wilson of course, but that was different – and she had the power to save him, from himself and everything else. She had an inner strength that had, on occasion, surprised even him. He couldn't let her go. It didn't even matter that she was a mother now, that her child was half Chase's. He'd thought it _would_ matter, thought it would be the factor that kept him from trying to start anything with her but in reality, it didn't matter in the least, because as much as Faith was half Chase…she was still half Cameron too. Though from what he'd seen of Faith, she was _all _Cameron.

She dropped the last bags into the backseat and began to walk around to the driver's side as a surge of realisation over the facts that had assaulted him caused him to reach out to grab her arm again. It was as though by physically keeping hold of her, she'd be sure to stay. A pained expression crossed over her face and he could see how hard it was for her to leave, as much as she wanted - _needed_ - to, as much as she knew it was _right_.

"Cameron, you don't have to do this-"

"I do! Please, House, stop making this harder than it is. Just…let me go."

"Yeah, it's _that_ easy."

He mumbled, unsure as to whether she'd heard him, though when she looked away, he knew she had. He let go of her arm as she pulled away, feeling the churn of desperation encouraging him to do something to stop her, and the countering sensation of helplessness. He was in over his head here because it was heavily dependant on feelings. He didn't do too well on that subject.

His weight felt heavier than usual on his cane and it was as if her leaving was adding a burden onto his shoulders, forcing a kind of tension into him. His eyes never left hers. Eyes that remained full of sadness and full of a longing that had turned into disillusionment over the years. They still sparkled, green as emeralds tinted with the blue of the ocean at a certain angle, but they held anguish he recognised with aching familiarity. He'd caused some of it.

Seconds seemed like an eternity as they passed and her soft sigh broke the tension between them as she closed her eyes and shook her head, leaning on the roof of her car, the distance between them easier with the vehicle in the way. Straightening up again, she opened the car door, and paused, meeting his eyes again.

"Goodbye, House."

---

It was at that point that a gunning engine down the street broke the near-silence between them, and as it roared down the street, getting closer to them, Cameron broke his gaze and turned to see a black Jeep Grand Cherokee speeding _toward_ her. Her heart skipped more than a few beats and she gasped in horror, as time seemed to slow down. The only thing she could think of was getting out of the way. Her legs were moving before she even had time to register the fact.

House couldn't do anything, the Jeep heading right for her. She dived out of the way and part of him mused at how much their lives could be the next big storyline on General Hospital, especially when the car skidded to a halt after missing Cameron, and the window rolled down.

A gun barrel emerged from the window, aimed directly at her. She couldn't move, terror-stricken and paralysed with ice-cold fear, both at the fact she had a gun aimed at her, and because of who the person yielding the gun was. His face had haunted her dreams for over a year and seeing him again paralysed her. Adam Costello.

She gripped her leg tightly, the pain dull and pounding from the way she'd landed on it, her head throbbing from the sharp crack on the tarmac.

"Cameron!"

She'd never seen House move faster than he did at that moment. Everything seemed to grind to a halt as two sharp, time-freezing shots sailed through the air. It hadn't really entered his mind that he was risking his life to save her, but that's exactly what he was doing as he took the two bullets almost willingly. Cameron's scream pierced the air, drowned out by the screeching tyres as the car drove away at break-neck speed.

One bullet had hit his right arm, the other had penetrated the right side of his abdomen and he was lying flat on his back, blood beginning to seep through the material of his shirt, trying to comprehend what he'd just done. Never before had he thought he'd take a bullet for someone.

But instinct had taken over him. Just as he'd secretly and silently promised himself back when she'd been hospitalised after her ordeal, he had not let her get hurt again. His instinct had taken over and he'd dived in front of her as the bullets had left the gun. What shook him the most was that it had been purely instinctive. A willingness to perhaps die for her meant more than he wanted to contemplate right now.

_All this feels strange and untrue  
And I won't waste a minute without you  
My bones ache, my skin feels cold  
And I'm getting so tired and so old_

Cameron was talking to him, her voice shaking as much as her hands as she pressed her jacket to his abdomen to slow the bleeding and ripped his t-shirt, tying the material round his arm, cutting off any more blood that could be lost from his wound. But her voice was becoming more distant, the edges of her words blurring as the world tilted.

Calling an ambulance on autopilot, she quickly returned to his side, tears streaming down her face as she tried to assure him he'd be fine. She couldn't believe what he'd done. She'd gone back to work in the hope that he'd somehow admit to her his feelings, not that she'd really believed he would because it was simply not who he was. Yet in the most heroic act she'd ever witnessed, he'd taken two bullets for her. He hadn't let her get hurt again. That meant more than any words ever could.

_The anger swells in my guts  
And I won't feel these slices and cuts  
I want so much to open your eyes  
'Cause I need you to look into mine_

"House, please hold on. Gregory House, I'm telling you, you are _not_ leaving me now."

Tears were choking her and she could see him drifting in and out of consciousness as he lost more blood.

As the ambulance arrived she pleaded with them to save him, her words jumbled as she tried to let everything that was happening sink in. She could hear Faith crying in the car so as quickly as possible she got the little girl and climbed into the ambulance, her eyes locked on everything that was going on with House. One of the paramedics took Faith and sat her up front in the vehicle whilst Cameron was in the back, her pupils being checked to make sure she wasn't injured – apart from the cuts and bruises from her dive onto the tarmac road – she realised she was making no sense and could possibly be concussed from the fall.

But none of it mattered, because as they loaded House into the ambulance, all she could see was the man she loved slipping away from her. They were constantly in this tug of war. One of them gave a little and then some horrible tragedy befell them. It looked as though fate was against them, but she didn't care. He _had_ to get through this, and then they would work things out for good.

_Get up, get out, get away from these liars  
'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire  
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine  
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time_

She was by his side as quickly as she could, holding tightly to his hand as the paramedic worked around her. Usually, she knew, she'd be moved back so they could get easier access, yet they were letting her stay put.

She noted how icy cold and trembling his hand was, and he winced as he turned his head a little to look at her. Tears were sliding down her cheeks again and spilling onto his blood-soaked t-shirt. She shook her head, gently stopping him from moving his neck. It had to be painful, but he was pushing through it. They were pumping him with morphine and she hoped to God it was helping. Guilt was flooding through her at the fact that he'd done this for her.

"You know better than to move your neck. Keep still."

She warned him, and the ghost of a smile on his lips said the words he couldn't verbalise right now.

"_I'm proud of you."_

Letting go of his hand and carefully cupping his cheeks, she could see him struggling, could feel him trembling beneath her hands, shock wracking his already damaged body. His eyes were still open slightly and he fought hard to look up at her. As carefully as she could without either applying too much pressure or jarring his neck in any way, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't a goodbye kiss. It was her giving him some fight back. And he did. For a moment he kissed back.

"I kissed you, ok? I…might _love_ you. You've got to fight this and pull through, because you're not ready to go yet. You've got too much left to do. Whatever we have, this can work. Now, _open your eyes _because if you don't, I'll never kiss you again, damnit!"

_Every minute from this minute now  
We can do what we like anywhere  
I want so much to open your eyes  
'Cause I need you to look into mine_

---

It was all a blue when they arrived at the hospital. The doors were thrown open and House was rushed inside. Cameron – with Faith on her hip, her eyes wide with wonder at everything going on around her – never left his side. Cuddy, Chase and Foreman were in the ER within minutes of their arrival and Foreman took the baby from Cameron, the mother too distracted to really notice anything but the mad rush around House in an attempt to get him stabilised.

He was taken to theatre to remove the bullets almost instantly and it was a tense few hours for those left waiting outside. This wasn't the first time House had had to have bullets removed and she kept reminding herself how well he'd pulled through back then.

---

'_Tell me that you'll open your eyes'_

Three long hours dragged by before House was stable, albeit comatose, and out of the operating room. Cameron never left his side for the two days he was unconscious, the whole ordeal running through her mind as she held onto his hand. The steady beep of his heart monitor was the only reassuring sound in the room and she'd ran out of tears to cry hours ago.

She was staring at their interlocked hands when she felt him stir and her eyes darted up to meet his. Icy blues were staring right back at her and relief flooded over her. She jumped up, keeping tight hold of his hand, and couldn't stop yet more tears from pricking her eyes. She was sure she had lost at least 70% of the water in her body just from crying.

"House…"

"How long have you been sitting here?"

His voice was hoarse and she smiled weakly.

"Couple days."

He nodded, piecing together how long he'd been out of it.

"Who…?"

"Him. They picked him up a block away. Hopefully they'll get it right now and won't let him out for a long, long time."

"He tried to kill you, that son of a bitch. After everything he did to you last time, they still let him out. What else did they expect, if they let rapists walk free?"

The anger in his words, coupled with the gravely quality of his voice made Cameron break eye contact. She hated being reminded with that word what had been done to her. So she manoeuvred the subject slightly.

"House…he didn't kill me. You saved my life."

It was his turn to drop his gaze from hers and she didn't care that he found personal moments like this awkward; she couldn't just let it go.

"Don't mention it, I know you'd have done the same for me."

She saw his eyes flicker down to where their hands were joined and she squeezed gently. He didn't pull away and eventually managed to meet her eyes again.

"You stepped in front of the barrel of a gun for me, how can I not mention it?"

Her voice hitched and she paused for a moment in the silence that followed.

"I thought I'd never get a chance to do this again."

She said softly, before leaning down and pressing her lips to his. He jarred for a moment, stunned by the kiss, but slid his left hand out of her hold and behind her neck, pulling her closer, using the kiss to say words he never could.

"I love you."

She whispered against his lips and he pulled back, looking into her eyes without saying a word. But she knew what it meant; he didn't have to say it. Maybe they could work things out. It was never going to be easy, but the amount of obstacles they'd pulled through and still survived…a relationship was a minor upheaval in their lives compared to all that. She hadn't lost him. It looked like fate had given them yet another chance and they would seize it with both hands this time.


End file.
